


The Anti-Monkees

by Backtothe60sFuture



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, I took “Fairytale” too seriously, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, TV Verse, doppelgangers, s2 e16, the stars are magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backtothe60sFuture/pseuds/Backtothe60sFuture
Summary: Everything was fine until a new up and coming rock band, the Chimpanzees arrived on the scene. They succeed where the Monkees fail and are doing alright in the music business.  It turns Mike’s whole world upside down when he falls for one of the members.  He goes to great lengths to make sure the other Monkees don’t find out. It doesn’t help that they look so much like the Monkees. They can’t be real right?
Relationships: Mike Nesmith/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 13





	1. The Monkees Have A Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Imagine the Monkees](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/577297) by Musicnbookscat. 



Mike was reading the paper and spooning a bowl of soup into his inattentive mouth. At least he assumed it was soup, he was more focused on the paper than eating. 

An up and coming singing group called ‘The Chimpanzees’, was squashing everything the Monkees stood for. They were loud, crass, rude and taking quite the controversial stance.

But the thing that had Mike’s attention to the paper and not the abomination that could be called “soup,” was their faces. Especially the tall fellow in the white button up and gray bell bottoms, the gleam of camera flash on what could be assumed a bald head, and those dark brown eyes. There was an attractiveness about this man, one that he only felt once before: when he saw himself as Princess Gwen, quite an attractive bird he was. He studied the man, nose deep in the newspaper. It was coming together, some wheels were turning–

“Umh! I-I can’t reach.” The unmistakable accent of his fellow British band mate could be heard. Mike looked up from his paper to see Davy standing on a chair just out of reach for a lightbulb he was trying to change above the table Mike was sitting at, eating his “soup.” “Peter could you do this instead?” Davy looked down at Peter, who was actually resting his elbows on the table, staring intently at the back of Mike’s paper wall.

“Peter!?” Mike gasped, folding his paper and resting it in his lap.  _ How long had he been next to me? _

“Sorry Mike, I’m just in awe. You’ve been eating my root beer soup nonstop for the past 10 minutes.” Peter then peers over into his bowl prompting Mike to do the same. It was almost gone. Mike immediately stood up, feeling a tickle in the back of his throat and a lurch in his stomach. “It’s coming back up. Oh–.” Mike rushed to the toilet and Peter’s root beer soup was thrown back up.

When Mike returned, Peter was climbing onto the chair to change the lightbulb. “What’s got you so hung up that you ate Peter’s root beer soup willingly?” Davy asked, earning a frown from Peter.

“This new group; they’re called the Chimps and they’re not right. But one of the members he’s attractive–.” “Attractive? Like me? S’ he more attractive than me Mike?” Davy gripped Mike’s collar. Mike squinted his eyes and he knew Davy’s real question was,  _ Is he the competition? The birds Mike! The birds! They’d say ‘Squak, squak, we don’t like you anymore Davy, squak, squak! Or something like that…  _ Mike gripped Davy’s wrists and pried his hands from his collar. “Cool it Tiny!” “Sorry, I mean of course he’s not more attractive than me. You find yourself to be quite the Adonis so I can’t trust your judgement anyway.” 

And at that moment Peter screwed in the lightbulb. “There.” He smiled, pleased with himself.

“The Chimps look like US!” Mike yelled grabbing the paper from the floor and opening it with fidgeting hands.  _ That was why that man caught my eye in a way no other man could. _ The other two Monkees crowded around Mike and stared at the picture of their four doppelgängers.

“S’ worse than I thought!” Davy said, “That shirt with those boots?” Davy’s doppelgänger had on a leather jacket, nose and ear piercings, jeans, black boots, and a cropped white shirt. 

“That guy can’t be me, he looks like he could kill me. I don’t wanna be a murderer!” Peter’s doppelgänger wore camouflage pants, a white tank top with an army green jacket, and a buzz cut.

Mike frowned.  _ Who are these guys?  _ “Ooh Mike your doppelganger is bald!” Peter pointed to the page and Davy let out a snicker. “I don’t like this,” Mike frowned, “Why do they look so much like us? That’s not possible is it?” 

Just then the door burst open and a disgruntled Micky stood on the other side with an arms full of groceries. He was soaking wet and the bags dripped with water. 

“Someone left the–“ “Micky use your angry voice, we can’t hear you otherwise.” Peter stated as a matter of fact. Micky’s voice could be quite soft and if you were far away it was hard to hear him. 

They were across the room. 

“Someone didn’t go get the Monkee Mobile’s retractable roof fixed!” Micky yelled through grit teeth. His “angry voice” as Peter called it. His face twisted into an ugly grimace as he shifted his eyes to a now manicuring his nails Davy. The other Monkee didn’t regard Micky at first, slowly shifting his eyes upward before a small sheepish grin found its way onto his innocent face.

“Now Mick–.” Mike started to say but the groceries hit the ground with a thud and Micky was right in front of Davy. 

“Did you at least get her number?” His voice still through grit teeth. “No.” He said with a frown. Micky instantly brightened up, a smile on his lips, making his eyes squint. “You didn’t score huh? Well I feel a bit sorry for doing this to you then.” “Doing wha–.” Micky shook his mop full of curls like a dog, spraying droplets of water onto Davy and by extension Mike himself, who was nearby him.

“Hey, hey now! You’re getting water on me too.” Mike said holding up the paper to shield himself from Micky’s spray. Davy tried to shield himself with his arms. “Sorry Mike.” Micky stopped. “What’s the buzz today?” Micky said eyeing the paper. “A mention of cats and dogs no doubt.” He continued.

“I saw an ad that a woman was selling newborn puppies at her house but that’s nothing new.” Peter said having skimmed a bit more than just “The Chimps” article. Mike ruffled Peter’s hair. 

Mike coughed. “Well you see there’s this group called The Chimps and they look just like us.” Mike said scratching the green hat on his head, only to then throw it to the side. He showed Micky the article.

“Wow! It’s like looking into the Twilight Zone!” Micky’s doppelgänger had his hair straightened, cut short, and square framed glasses perched on his nose. He wore a black suit and tie. “Hey check out their names. From left to right: Robert ‘Bob’ Smith, George Dotan, Randel ‘Randy’ Thorfinnson, and David ‘Dave’ Jonesdavis.”

Micky shuddered at the dress of his doppelganger and Mike scrunched up his face in disgust.  _ Their names were so ordinary. _

“I think they’re robots.” Peter spoke up. “Robots? Peter that’s ridiculous, they can’t be robots.” Mike said dismissively.

Micky slung an arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Oh Mike, we had quite the run in with Martians when you were visiting your folks. They made a robot of me that was almost identical.” He sprung up suddenly with a finger in the air. “Except! The robot’s feet were on backwards,” he said in his “sports moderator” voice. Peter nodded vigorously.

Mike looked over to see Davy bringing the groceries to the counter. “S’ true Mike.” He took out an apple, a loud  _ crunch _ sounded as he bit into it. “I bought that apple for Peter.” Micky said. “S’ok Micky, Davy can have it if he wants. Look, it takes up most of his face.” Peter gushes, Davy reminding him of a small child. 

Davy frowns. “It’ll take up most of your face in a minute.” Davy made a motion to throw the apple but just took another bite instead.

“So, The Chimps are robots...that’s our motion?” Mike said slamming his spoon like a gavel on the table. The three other Monkees nodded.

“Now what?” Mike asked, this sci-fi stuff more up Micky’s alley. “Now that we know the truth we should expose them to the world!” Micky’s “sports announcer voice” rose, “But! First someone needs to get the retractable roof fixed.” 

Mike eyed Davy. “I’ll do it, and I promise not to get distracted this time.”

While Davy took the Monkee mobile to the dealership, Micky skimmed through the phone book looking for the four Chimps. Peter sat near him with a notepad and a pencil ready to write down their phone number and address.

Mike was out on the deck with his guitar.  _ To think, out there was Martians. Martians! And they’d come right outside our home.  _ He strums the chords to  _ The Girl That I knew Somewhere  _ because he was too distracted to try and write a new song. For once he was putting his trust in Micky to be able to handle this robot situation. Mike chewed on a hangnail, he was putting his trust in  _ Micky. _

Mike stopped strumming, hearing the commotion of Peter and Micky trying to fit through the doors to the deck. After a minute of so of struggle they got through. “Mike! They live together in an apartment! I got the address and their phone number!” Micky exclaimed. “So what now? We still gotta wait on Davy to bring the Monkee Mobile back.” “No time! The train station isn’t far!” 

With another struggle by all three, they headed back inside to run out the front door toward the train station. They were halted however by running into the shortest Monkee, causing them all to fall over onto their butts and Davy to drop his stack of books. “What is going on here?” A confused Davy asked. “No time!” Micky was back on his feet and dragging Davy out the door. Peter scampered after them. 

Mike got up and sighed, closing the door to the pad, and instantly regretting his decision. Mike clutched the arm rest as they zoomed by another red light. Micky was generally a good driver… 

The Monkee Mobile screeched to a stop and found a parking spot right in front of the Chimp’s apartment complex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first story for the Monkees, I hope I’m doing ok with their characterizations.
> 
> The last names for three of the Chimpanzees are real last names from the 2000 census least common U.S. last names!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Meet The Chimps

Randel Thofinnson was consuming his daily slice of current news. But he saw the main story was about them so he skipped to the weather.  _ It’s supposed to rain later on today. _

It was currently 6 in the morning; he always was the first one up, following the military routine for when he was in Vietnam.

George got up shortly after. “My turn to get the groceries?” He said pouring a bowl of milk. Randy gave him a nod. George was a milk first kind of guy, and that grated Bob’s nerves. But, it was a good thing Bob got up last, so George could eat his Raisin Bran without him knowing.

For several moments the sound of paper flipping and cereal crunching could be heard. “Dave got the ChimpanzeeMobile’s retractable roof fixed right?” George asked, a bit paranoid of the possible rain pour, having noticed the dark clouds outside. Randy gave him a nod. “It’s not like he’s easily distracted by girls or something.” George chuckled in spite of himself. To be honest, Dave gave him the creeps.

Randy was hardened by the war, George knew that, so he excused his cold exterior. George knew Randy was nice once you got to peel back the layers. But Dave...

“You’re jealous.” Randy stated as a matter of fact. “What?” George was dumb founded. Randy was good at perception. He always knew what he and the others were thinking or feeling. But that didn’t make it any less startling to hear. “You’re jealous of Dave. You think it’s not fair that he gets all the girls’ attention.” He said, a small smile on his lips. George stands up. “I’m going to freshen up.”

On his way to the bathroom George trips on his own two feet and stumbles into the door. 

Dave came down when George was about to leave. George hurriedly grabbed an umbrella and walked out the door. “What’s his hang up?” Dave asked. Randy shrugged. “So I saw this short guy chattin up some blonde on my way to the dealership. And you know the strangest thing was, he looked just like me! I thought I was dreaming or something but then I heard this song, about a believer or something like that on the radio and the singer sounds just like George!” Randy, skeptical without proof, just gave Dave an eye roll. “We have doppelgängers out there Randy, singing hippy songs and destroying what we stand for!”

Dave almost punched a girl once. 

“Dave!” Bob bellowed from his room. Bod hated to be disturbed from his sleep. He needed all 10 hours of beauty rest and was quite cranky if woken up early. Randy put on the kettle for the lanky Texan’s coffee. 

Bob came out of his room in his blue silk robe, brown slippers and sleep mask. “What are you yelling about, disturbing my sleep?” “There are people who look just like us! Bob we have doppelgängers!” Bob laughs. “No way. These looks cannot be achieved by anyone else.” He gestures to his face. “They have to be clones or robots.” 

“Bob, Dave, you two are getting carried away. Human-like robots don’t exist. Dave, the man you saw doesn’t exist, you did stay up late that night during our gig at the Box Trots. You got up quite early to make our appointment so you were probably just seeing things in your sleep deprived state.” Randy said, pouring Bob’s coffee. Bob took the steaming cup with an appreciative nod.

Dave frowned. “I’ll prove it to you, I’ll go down to the record store and buy their hippy dippy album.” “George went to the store with the ChimpMobile.” Randy deadpanned. “Oh.” Dave said, rounding out his “O”. He poured some Raisin Bran into a bowl before getting some milk to do the same.

When George returned, Dave grabbed the keys and his stack of books. “I’ll be back.” He said running out the door to the black Pontiac.

Dave wouldn’t admit it to the rest of the guys but hearing George’s doppelgänger sing made his heart skip a beat. He hoped it was temporary; he was usually repulsed by romance.

Randy did most of the singing in the band, the others doing background or just playing their instruments. Occasionally he or Bob would sing lead but George never wanted to. He assumed George was quite shy.

Dave parked the Chimps mobile in the parking lot of the record store. He walked in, hearing the jingle of a bell.

The man behind the counter didn’t really pay him any attention. “Excuse me sir, do you know who sings that song about a believer or something?” He looked up from his TigerBeat magazine, the issue with them on it, The main focus being his lack of girlfriends. 

“Y-you’re–!” “Yeah, yeah. What do you want me to sign?” The man slid his magazine cover toward him along with a pen. Dave signed his name. “Oh thank you Mr. Jonesdavis! Um… a believer... Let me see…” The man searched through a few files. He pulled out a Manila folder. “Ah! Here it is! The Monkees. They’re in section M.” Dave nodded.

There were quite a bit of “The Monkees” album on the shelf, a few collecting dust as if they’d been there for a while. Dave picked one up and saw the faces of four men identical to himself and his band mates. 

_ They’re real...they can't be robots can they?  _ Dave purchased the album and returned to their complex. 

When he opened the door seven sets of eyes stared back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter when I planned on switching between the Chimps and Monkees’ POVs but I scrapped that plan. So its formatted weird, but I thought it was still important for the small amount of character the Chimps have so I kept it.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. The Monkees Meet Their Match

Micky noticed Dave catch George’s eye before settling on himself. Micky gave the man a smile, he did go out and buy their album after all. “You bought our album!” Micky exclaimed, voicing his thoughts.

Dave seemed taken back. “Y-you sound like–.” “He sounds like George, I sound like Bob and so on and so on around the room. We’ve done our introductions T-t David.” Mike said exasperated.

“What are you all doing here?” Dave asked. “To see if you guys were real. You bought the album for that too, yeah?” Davy said with an eyebrow raise. 

Dave gave a nod. He was still by the door. Davy studied his doppelgänger, getting up and walking toward him. Dave’s eyes widened. “Can I try something?” He said tilting up his chin with his hand. “No! Don’t you dare touch me again!” Dave smacked his hand away and walked to stand beside George who looked mildly uncomfortable.

“Well I guess since you all are real then we can go home.” Mike said getting up. “Wait.” Randy spoke up then. “Stay for lunch.” Mike cringed. “Um no offense Randel but we’ll pass on the grub.” “But Mike,” Peter tugged on his sleeve, “we don’t have any food at the pad.”

Micky just bought groceries, of course they had food. Mike turned his gaze to Micky. Red dusted his cheeks. “All we have are bologna sandwiches.” “Bologna! Ah man! Alright Randel we’re stayin’.”

Bob upturned his nose. “Always the hospitable host aren’t ya Randy? We don’t even know these long haired weirdos.” George nodded and Dave was indifferent. Randy narrowed his eyes and Micky could feel the tension in the room. “Robert don’t be rude.” Bob frowned but didn’t say more.

Soon the Monkees and Chimpanzees were sitting around the table with the exception of Randy who was serving the plates. Micky rubbed his hands together. “Pork Chops! I haven’t had these in I don’t know how long.” The other Chimps gave him a look before Bob let out a snort. “It must be so hard for you, why don’t you just quit while you’re ahead?” The sneer on Bob’s face said it all. Micky knew about light teasing and Bob was not joking in the slightest. 

“That wasn’t very nice, I know we’re the competition but–.” Peter spoke up. “Competition? Well I’ll be damned! We didn’t even know y’all existed and now I’m supposed to believe there’s someone out there that screams ‘The Monkees’” Bob interrupted, slamming his palms on the dining table and rising in his seat. The chair screamed as it slid backwards. Peter shrunk a little in his seat, brown eyes wide. 

Micky took a tentative sip of water before loudly clearing his throat. “I could think of someone.” 

Peter and Bob quickly darted their eyes in his direction. Davy put his head in his hands. Mike gave him a warning: a quick furrow of his eyebrows and a purse of his lips.

“The zookeeper!” Micky beamed, “Attention visitors, the monkeys have escaped!” He cupped his mouth with his hands. To which he followed with making the sound of an alarm.

Micky looked around the table as six sets of eyes stared back at him. Dead silent. Micky’s heart raced in his chest, his lip wavered, “Heh, tough crowd.” But then all of a sudden, a small chuckle sounded from behind him.

Randy who’d been at the doorway, having rushed from the kitchen, shook from the short bursts of laughter bubbling up from his throat. “B-because you’re the Monkees! I get it! I–.” Micky turned around and smiled. _Finally._ Dave and George blinked owlishly at the sight of Randy laughing. 

Bob twisted his mouth into an ugly grimace. “Oh you’re the funny man, huh? Maybe you should become a comedian! You do that better than singing.” Micky frowned. 

“Hey man, what’s your hang up?” Mike spoke up. “I finally woke up the angry Texan. Tell your pack it’s time to go.” “Robert–.” Randy started. “No, I can’t be the only one not ok with suddenly being cozy with these low-lifes.” Mike stood up and Davy did as well. Davy being closer, met Bob chest to chest. “Now you listen here. You can’t just talk about us like that.” “And What are you gonna do about it midget?” 

Davy took a step back, throwing a punch at Bob who dodged. Bob stepped back and because of Davy’s shorter reach, was just out of his range. Micky found the display almost comical. Bob threw his arm back and was able to give Davy a good _smack_ on the cheek.

Davy stumbled back as Peter got up to catch him. “Oh Peter, am I still beautiful?” His big brown eyes looked up, almost hopeful. Peter looked down at the man he was supporting in his arms. Peter winced, taking in the ugly red handprint that marked his right cheek. “You’ve seen better days.” He said.

“You monster! How could you do that to my son? He was supposed to support the family and bring me little babushkas!” Micky cried in agony, having now adorned a blanket over his head. He wept into Bob’s shoulder.

“Mick.” Mike started. “Oh woe is me!”Micky cried in hysterics. “Micky!” Mike exclaimed now in front of Bob and himself. “Huh? Oh, you take care of em Mike!” Micky beamed, nudging Mike on the arm. He went over to Davy who was babbling about how ugly he was now and Peter trying to tell him it wasn’t so bad. 

“Now look here Bob. Us here musicians gotta stick together because the industry is trying to keep us down. Thank you for the meal, but all I ask for is your respect and we’ll leave.” “Never.” “Man how can you be so damn gorgeous and so got damn rude?” Mike slapped a hand over his mouth. The room fell silent, Micky had been 5 seconds from giving Davy another red mark on his cheek.

Dave and George blinked, and Randal now had a dangerous leer on his face pointed at Mike. Bob was struck silent for once this whole evening.

“Well we better make like a banana and split.” Micky picked up the stiff-as-a-board Mike and the bumbling quad made their way out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse Micky’s terrible jokes and puns. I'm so bad at comedy.
> 
> Thank you fo reading.


	4. Micky Thinks Something’s Not Right With Mike

Davy considered himself a love expert. If you’re gonna go out on a lot of dates you have to take notes, so you won’t make the same mistakes.

He took to taking notes about his band mates too. 

For example, Peter was more into observing his love interest. He didn’t dive head first into love, he waited until the moment seemed right, or if it seemed worth it to dive at all. Sometimes he missed and sometimes he hit. Girls he admired found him innocent and naive, his heart in the right place even if he wasn’t the brightest or most capable.

Micky has his standards set and tries to find a person to fit the mold, but more often than not he wanted a vessel to hear the workings of his mind. So really, although he says he wants an intelligent woman, he just wants someone to listen to him. When he stops focusing on himself, he could actually find that type of woman instead of letting his hormones choose. But Micky’s immature as of right now.

Girls of course adored him for his lively personality and sense of humor.

Mike, was a bit more complex though. Maybe he was a mix of Micky and Peter. He observed and was steered by hormones but also knew he wanted an intelligent woman who could challenge him. But now he wasn’t so sure...

Mike was a few beats off during practice and Micky couldn’t take the tension anymore. “What was that back there?” He asked, all of them able to fill in the blanks.

“Well Davy asks us if we think he’s attractive all the time.” Mike shrugs. “Well yeah but that’s his thing. He’s the ‘heartthrob.” Micky says a bit begrudgingly. Davy wasn’t stupid, he knew but it wasn’t his choice to make, it was the birds.

“Well Mike did like himself as Princess Gwen, this is the same thing.” Peter said. Davy noticed Peter was giving Mike an out. “Well–.” Micky started, he wouldn’t let it go. Micky took on Mike’s role when Mike wasn’t in charge. They needed more time before they asked Mike again, who knows, maybe it was just a passing thought.

“It’s kind of late Micky. This day was stressful and we have to practice for the gig tomorrow.” Davy said. Micky closed his mouth but nodded anyway. 

Mike said he wanted to sleep with Peter tonight because Micky had that look in his eye that he’d keep questioning him. Mike preferred to do the questioning, not the other way around. And Micky, once he had a thought, had many thoughts that he couldn’t keep to himself.

“Davy.” Micky whispered in the darkness of their room, snuggled in what was Peter’s bed. Davy wanted to ignore him, but Micky would talk to his assumed sleep form, hindering Davy’s sleep anyway. “Yeah Mick.” “Do you think…” It was what they were all thinking but no, it was too early. It was just a seed. But maybe it wasn’t even a seed so they could ignore it, maybe it would die on its own.

“It was probably just vanity.” Davy said. “Mike does think highly of himself. It can’t be deeper than that.” “But what if it is.” Micky almost hissed at him. There was a strain, an irritance, an insistence that he should at least  _ think  _ about the possibility. “No _.”  _ His voice firm. He needed more time to observe before he would think about it. At the moment it was an accident.

“But shouldn’t we do something?”  _ Take action before something happens?  _ Micky was suggesting something dangerous, stifling the possible seed before it could grow. 

Davy left Micky in silence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micky was gone when Davy awoke the next morning. Odd considering he was usually last to rise. “You sleep good in Micky’s bed, Peter?” Davy asked Peter who was downstairs with Mike.

“He needs to wash his sheets, they’ve got all kinds of snacks in them.” Peter frowns spooning cereal. “I hope he didn’t leave anything in my bed.” He continued as an afterthought. “Still sleepin’?” Mike asked.

“He’s gone out somewhere.” Davy shrugged. He reached over to pour a bowl for himself. Mike raised an eyebrow. “That’s strange. He doesn’t usually go out this early ‘sept for groceries.” Mike scratched his head and went toward the front door. “Is the Monkeemobile…” he trailed off opening the door wide to peer outside.

Mike stepped back in. “It’s gone!” He exclaimed. “I’m sure Micky will be back.” Peter said.

Micky was back a few hours later.

Davy looked up from his “Swimsuit Monthly” magazine at the sound of the door  _ click. _

“Mick–.” Micky held a finger to his lips. He beckoned him with his finger. Davy furrowed his eyebrows, putting the magazine down.

Micky bent down and whispered into his ear, “I read the tea leaves.” 

Davy took a step back. He took in the Micky’s manic state, his hair more of a mess than usual and his eyes darkened from lack of sleep. Had Micky slept at all last night?

“What did they–.” “MICKY!” Mike bellowed from his room, not in anger but in full fledged worry. He zoomed down the steps, “What happened to ya buddy? Ya look worse for wear. Y-you left so early I was–.” Micky’s eyes were wide, deep set on Mike. “I’m tired.” He blinked finally and let out a yawn. “Somethin’ keeping you up? Wanna talk about it when you wake up?” Micky shook his head.

~~~~~~~

Davy could feel it in the way they played. The tense atmosphere Micky had around Mike, skittish, unsure. In their duet in “The Girl I knew Somewhere” Micky seemed to be drowning Mike out.

“Mick?” Mike said on the drive home from their gig. “Just tired Mike.” Micky said with a soft sigh, leaning his face against the glass of the MonkeeMobile window. “We’ll talk about it another time. Before bed?” “I’ll sleep with Davy.” “Micky you need to clean your bed, I can’t sleep with crumbs all over.” Peter interjected. “Can you do me this one favor Big Pete? Just tonight.” Davy could hear the tiredness, mental exhaustion.

In the darkness Micky spoke to him again. Shielded by the door from Mike. “The tea leaves said Mike will fall in love with someone and it’ll bring us trouble.” “Doesn’t it always? And isn’t Ms. Badderly a fraud?”

Really, Micky was trying to dig up something that wasn’t there. 

“Oh I’ll show you. You’ll see that I’m right.” It wasn’t just a statement, it was a promise. “But what if you’re w-wrong?” Davy whispered in the dark, wasn’t sure if he’d said it loud enough. If Micky had heard him, he didn’t say.

In a way, Davy wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted Micky to be right. His gut twisted in knots. Micky’s question from before was brought to the forefront of his mind.

_ If it is deeper than that, what should they do? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. Micky is For The Birds, The Cuckoo Birds

Peter always played the dummy. But it didn’t mean he always was, sometimes it meant the others wouldn’t expect so much of him. 

But despite that, he was washing Micky’s sheets of crumbs, and stains of powdered chips and sticky suckers, as though he knows how to clean up, and Micky did not. 

And here he was in Micky’s bed as though he could keep Mike away and the others could not. But to tell you the truth, Peter thought he was acting pretty smart about this whole thing.

Mike did not say a word to him and he didn’t pry. Whatever it was that Mike felt in the moment of uttering those words that caused Randy’s face to contort, Bob’s mouth to shut and Micky’s nerves to spike was not brought up in their shared space. 

He had no idea if it was a passing phase or not. Quite frankly, he didn’t care; it wasn’t bothering Mike so it didn’t bother him. But oh he could tell it was bothering the others. 

~~~~~~~

One day Micky made several phone calls until he hung up beaming. 

“Fellas I have done it! I’ve got us dates, except for Davy.” Micky said in his announcer voice. “Hey! Why not me?” Davy said looking up from his bologna sandwich. Micky, Mike, and Peter himself gave him a look. “Just stand outside. Get out.” Mike said. Davy sighed, taking his sandwich and going out the door.

“As I was saying. I scored us dates with three hot chicks, at the bowling alley. If all goes well, and a certain someone doesn’t try to tag along, we could have girlfriends!” Micky was excited, a bit too excited.

“Hurray!” Mike and himself chanted.

Davy came back a few minutes later. “Guess what I have fellas?” “A date.” The other three deadpanned.

“I didn’t need Micky after all.” Davy smirked and the other two left the room. 

It was just Peter and Davy. “Do you think I’ll be able to have my bed back?” Peter asked what had bothered him just a bit. He liked Mike but he also liked being in his own bed, and seeing his own side of the room with his own possessions.

It had been a week. Davy winced. “You’ll have to ask Micky.” “I have and he always says, ‘One more night Pete, one more night,’ and I agree because I guess he’s hung up on something.” Peter shrugs. He had a clue it was ‘the incident’ but Micky shouldn’t worry so much.

But then he wouldn’t be Micky if he wasn’t wound up on something. He needed to focus his energy on some task and apparently it was finding them dates and staying away from Mike.

Davy looks at Peter biting his lip, as if he were debating on telling him something. But Davy rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder, in the comforting way that he was sure made girls feel safe too, “I’ll take care of it.” The reassurance in his voice and those deep brown eyes, how could any girl not trust the words that came out of his mouth? Peter smiled in that innocent way that he did, “Thanks Davy.”

And in that moment he’d believed him.

~~~~~~~~~

Micky had matched him with another blonde named Pamala. She didn’t go by “Pam” as she’d explicitly stated upon introduction. “A fun one.” Micky jested.

Micky matched Mike with a curly redhead, who was very upbeat and energetic. Her name was Alexandrea but they call her Alex. There was something about her that was ‘rough.’ Peter didn’t know if he’d call her a tomboy or not, as she was wearing overalls but she looked sweet, her face round and innocent.

Micky himself was matched with a blonde who was actually quite stunning. But there was the question of if she actually came for the game.“Brenda.” She said more interested in her nails.

Davy did not tag along with them, he’d planned to take advantage of them being gone. Peter was pretty sure that meant a little bit more than watching movies on the TV.

The three Monkees had to scrounge up enough change for the 2 game and shoe special. A whole dollar...Peter hopes it will be worth the trouble.

Pamala was a good bowler, better than him and even Mike himself who was the best of their quad. “Good shot!” He said when she picked up a spare that was 7/10 split.

Pamala pushed up her glasses and said, “Of course, it’s pretty hard to do.” Peter watched her as she pressed down her skirt, and sat next to him, as were the unspoken rules of their outing. She crossed her tight clad legs in those ugly worn bowling shoes. Peter twiddled his thumbs. “You don’t need my approval.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating a fact. The girl had it set in her mind that she didn’t need any encouragement from him, her date.

“No I don’t.” _ Is she reaffirming me?  _ “I don’t need yours either.” Peter said, he would have liked some from her, truthfully. She “tutted” him and rolled her eyes when he messed up. When he did good she didn’t meet his eyes.

“You do.” She said looking at him, her cold blue eyes piercing through the depths of his soul. “You’re irritatingly vulnerable and self conscious.” She continues. 

“Do you like being mean?” Peter asked, not liking her attitude the entire evening. They were at the end of game one.

She sighed. “I’d hoped you’d ditch me.” “Why?” “Because it’s easier than telling you I’m trying to focus on my career.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh. You could’ve said so before. I respect that, my career is important to me too. I wouldn’t mind us being friends.” “Right, Micky said you all were musicians.” She looked away from him, “Must be tough.” She said as an afterthought. 

“It is, trust me.” Peter clipped off short. “What job do you do?” “Right now I’m just a secretary but one day I want to be the CEO. I’m going to work my way up the corporate ladder.” She said, so sure. “I’m sure you will.” Peter said. And this time when she looked at him, he didn’t see so much cold. 

“Thanks.” 

He could’ve swore he saw an upward quirk of her lips.

Peter subbed out Mike to keep score for game two; he’d lost anyway. 

Alex had scored third, just under Micky. 

She was happy her date would be playing. She’d sent Mike waves every time she went to bowl. 

Peter glances at the score sheet and was surprised to see random words on the scoring sheet. It was plausible Mike was bored over here. “Bike, Mob, Rike, Alex, Alex, Alex.” Alex was scratched so firm into the paper that the imprint could be seen on the next game. Alex was sweet but a little competitive. She’d slapped Micky at bit too hard on the back to congratulate him. 

_ Mike must really like Alex _ , he hopped everything went well.

Peter got bored, he wanted to wave Micky over but he seemed a bit preoccupied with Brenda. So he tried for Mike instead.

“Those scores are pitiful.” A familiar voice said. Peter turned to see Bob, the most unlikable of the Chimps. “Robert!” He exclaimed, surprised. “We cross paths again in the most unlikely ways, eh Petey?” Peter frowned, “The bowling alley is public.” “Yes but I didn’t think you all would have enough money,” He chuckled. “We almost didn’t, are you all playing a game?” “Yes and our scores are better.” “It’s for fun, no competition. It’s great you guys are doing good.” Peter shrugs. He really didn’t want another enemy added on to the list of enemies they already had.

“Shotgun, who are you–.” Mike cut himself off upon seeing Bob again. Their eyes met before Bob turned away, Dave had called him to take his turn. Mike was frozen, one leg forward to approach him, mouth agape. “Mike?” Peter said snapping Mike out of whatever trance he was in. “I was just coming to check on you. That fella doesn’t have anyone else to bother does he?” He said slinging an arm around his shoulder. Peter shrugged, “I guess not.”

Soon it was time for them to depart from the girls. Pamala scribbled down her mailing address. “Write me, I want to know how it goes in showbiz.” She said before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the first person to believe in my goal.” She whispered in his ear. Peter was stunned. “I will write you, I promise.”

“So I’ll call you?” Micky asked. “Nah. I thought you were apart of the Chimps actually.” Brenda said. “Oh they’re over in lane 8.” Peter spoke up. “Really?!” She squealed before running over there.

Micky frowned before glaring at Peter. “I’m going to the Monkee mobile.”

“I had a nice time Alex, I really did but uh…” Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I get it, you’re shy.” Alex said stepping a bit closer. “N-no I–.” And before Mike could finish, Alex grabbed his face in her hands and brought their lips together in a kiss.  _ Awww _

Peter turned to go to the Monkee mobile when he heard an audible  _ pop. “ _ Alex?!” Mike said in shock. “What? I thought you liked me Mike. I can get down and dirty like those other girls too.” She responded. “No it’s not that. I just don’t like you like that Alex. I’m sorry.” “Is it cause I don’t wear dresses and mini skirts? You men are all the same!” 

Peter watched Micky, who looked like he was contemplating going over there. Peter didn’t know if it was for Mike’s benefit or Micky’s own. 

Mike joined them in the car when Alex stormed off. Micky turned to Mike in the backseat, “Sorry man, I thought you liked tough girls.” “Why would you think that?” Micky shrugged.

And later that night as Peter laid in Micky’s bed again he broke the silence. “Davy lied to me.” He said, point blank. “Oh yeah Pete? About what?” He heard Mike respond. “He said he’d talk to Micky about me having my bed tonight but I’m still here.”

Mike shifted in the dark, now facing him. “I don’t know why Micky doesn’t want to sleep in his old room. But I’d say give him some space and he’ll eventually tell us what’s wrong.” “Do you miss Micky?” Peter asked.

“Pete, Micky isn’t gone. He’s just in the next room.” “Cause I miss Davy.” Peter admits, he doesn’t like the silence him and Mike have. “But I don’t think they miss us.” Peter turned away from Mike.

_ Mike knew there was a divide between us right? It was subtle but it was there. _

Peter waited a beat. “Mike, why didn’t you like Alex?” Peter whispered in the dark. “I’ve got a lot of things on my mind Peter. I didn’t want to bring Alex into that.”

Peter wasn’t closer to anything. He was farther away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. Peter Wants His Bed Back

Mike wished he could tell Peter what was on his mind. He felt like a hypocrite, always offering the other Monkees his ear when they were hung up on something but not accepting theirs.

But he couldn’t, he had to know what was bothering Micky first. He knew the man thought something unfavorable of him but how would he be able to disprove it, if he didn’t know what it was? Plus he wanted everything to go back to normal, for Pete’s sake at least.

So the next morning Mike burst into Micky and Davy’s room. He stalked over to the other bed with the larger Monkee sprawled across it and threw off his covers. 

Micky’s dark coffee brown eyes squinted at the rising light of the sun. He turned to look up at Mike who was staring daggers at him. “M-mike?!” Micky screeched, curling in on himself as though he were exposed. Micky was in his striped blue button up pajamas. 

“Peter wants his bed back.” Mike said, hands on his hips, like a parent would while shaming their child. 

“What’s happening?” Davy said springing up in his polka dot pajamas and looking around wildly. “C’mon Micky, you’ve been sayin’ ‘one more night’ for the past week and a half.” Mike addressed Micky again. Micky looks back at him. 

“Will you answer my questions?” Micky asks. “Only if you answer mine.” Micky gets up, “It’s a deal buckaroo.” Micky says in his “deal maker” voice and shakes Mike’s hand.

“Yeah Big Pete can have his bed tomorrow after we talk.” Micky continues. “Not tonight?” Mike questioned. “I might be preoccupied tonight. I’m gonna call Alex.” Mike sighed.  _ Of course he would. _

Davy shrugged and went back to sleep, burying himself under the covers once again.

Micky and Mike went into the kitchen, sitting across from each other at their rather small dining table. “What time is it Mike?” Micky asked still drowsy from broken sleep. Mike checked his watch, “Just after 6.” “Gosheroonie Mike you sure know how to catch the worms.” “I wanted to get this over with. Pete wants his room.”

Micky nodded before his eyes hardened into a focused gaze. Mike felt a prickle in his skin at how intimidating Micky looked at this moment. But Mike let out a breath because it was Micky, he’d probably do a voice, and it wouldn’t be as bad as he assumed it wau

“Are you hung up on guys?” Mike narrowed his eyes. Mike had to choose how he said this. Too much expression and it seemed like a cover-up, but not enough seemed to hide nerves. “Now why would you say a thing like that?” Really, one slip-up and Micky thought he went down the rabbit hole. 

“Well you...said–.”  _ Micky has nothing to go off of. _ “I know what I said, and I said isn’t it the same with Davy?” Micky frowned before his mouth curled into a smirk. “Well why didn’t you like Alex?” “Did you see Alex? The girl is tough as nails, she could snap me in half!” “Fair point, but I’m still gonna give her a ring.” “We good Mick?” “Yeah! I was just being dumb.” Micky gave him a smile that made his eyes squint. “I’m going to catch some more zzz’s.” He continued before going into Davy and Peter’s room to continue his sleep.

So that’s what Micky’s problem was. He hoped he convinced him enough to return everything to a semblance of normal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter was busy scribbling down what he wanted to include in his first letter to Pamala.

Micky was trying to figure out what he wanted to say to Alex when he called her, thus joining Peter in scribbling notes.

Davy was grooming himself.

And Mike had been, since this morning, trying to figure out how he’d get Davy alone.  _ What task can we do with only the two of us? _ Tired of not being able to think of a convincing plan he grabbed the younger man’s arm and yanked him away from the mirror. “Come on we need to go!” He said.

“Hey! I was still usin’ the mirror, wait a minute.” Davy yelled at him, and pulled away. “Well you look good enough. I need some more strings for my guitar.” Davy turned toward him, eyebrow raised. “What do you need me for then?”

_ That is a good question _ . “You could get me a discount, sweet talk the cashier.” Davy scrunched up his face. Mike quickly reassured him, “Under new management. Those spies aren’t running the music store anymore. A sweet girl, Cindy Lou is selling for her old man.”  _ What a good lie. _

That straightened Davy right up. “Well what are we standing around here then for Mike? Let’s go get you those strings.” Then it was Davy who was pulling Mike by the arm out of the Pad.

Peter and Micky only gave them a glance before returning to their hasty writing. Davy jumped into the driver’s seat before realizing that he wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals or see over the wheel. Davy got out quickly and Mike took his place as the driver.

Mike’s palms were sweaty as they pulled into a space at  _ The Little Out of the Way Place No One Goes.  _ “Mike this isn’t–.” “I know, Davy.” Mike sighed, had it really come to this? So jumbled in his thoughts that he had to literally steal Davy in order to try and get some semblance of clarity? “I just wanted to talk.” Davy’s mouth was pressed into a hard line. Mike could see that the younger man was thinking. “But not here, inside.” Mike quickly added.

Davy and Mike ordered a table for two, in a discreet location. “We have to discuss some important business.” Mike added just to lower the waitress’s eyebrow.

Davy held his chin in his hand when they were seated, “And?” He probed, still a bit upset at the lack of a possible score. “How do you get over being hung up on somebody?” Davy blinked before putting on that smirk that meant he’d say something smug. Why did Mike think he’d give the most applicable advice?

“Now Mike why would you wanna do a thing like that for?” “Cause she’s taken man!” “Has that ever stopped me?” He made a good point, previous relationships meant nothing _ , it has to be those damn stars or something. _

Mike was convinced Davy was some kind of vampire. 

“Well no but I’m not you.” Davy looked around before lowering himself toward the surface of the table. “You wanna know a secret?” He whispered. Mike was suddenly intrigued. “Yeah shoot Tiny.” Davy beckoned him with his finger. Mike leaned in close and Davy whispered in his ear, “The stars are magic.” 

Mike laughed.  _ Magic? That was ridiculous!  _ He believed in the supernatural sure but magicians and hypnotists were frauds.

“You don’t believe me? I could do it on anyone, even you.” Mike crossed his arms. “You can’t do that to me, I find you absolutely revolting.” Davy rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if you like a girl Mike, you gotta fight for her. Like Peter did and expose her boyfriend as the rubbish he probably is.”  _ I should’ve asked Peter. He would’ve told him to stay away. _

But he’d been hung up for over a week now, “But she’s rude, deplorable even!” “Just talk to her Mike, there’s something about her that’s got you hooked. You might find out you don’t like her anymore if you learn more about her.” Mike frowned, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear but something had to be done.

Mike noticed his drink tasted funny but didn’t question it. They didn’t eat, just drank the water provided. They were low on cash.

They went back to the MonkeeMobile and drove back to the pad. “Damn! What are we going to do when Micky and Peter ask about the guitar string?” Davy looked off into a random location and said, “You know I’d kill for a convenient plot device.” Mike grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at him. “What in tarnation are you yapping about?” 

When they opened the door Peter was entertaining the girl Davy went out with while they were bowling. “You’re so funny!” She squealed as Peter sang the tail end of  _ Tear the top right off my head  _ while strumming his bass. “Saundra!” he said surprised. “Davy!” She gasped, rising from the couch. “I was looking for you! You never called me back so I came to see you instead.” “Darling you know we saw each other yesterday? I thought you meant call within the week.” “Oh no my little sugar dumpling! I can’t get enough of you!” She said running over to scoop him up in a hug. Sandra was Mike’s height. “You’re like a little teddy bear!” Sandra squeezed Davy who looked like he was struggling to breath. 

Mike noticed that Peter kept his eyes on Sandra. “Pete, is Micky here?” Peter looked away from Sandra. “No, Alex picked him up and took him to her house. He’s been gone quite awhile.” “Hmm well I guess that’s a good thing.” 

Mike had to eventually pull Sandra away from Davy, his face was turning a dangerous shade of blue. “Sandra you’re killing the poor boy.” Mike said to the now pouty faced woman. Davy took some large gulps of air. “I-I don’t think this is going to work out.” He managed through wheezing. Sandra looked about ready to cry on the spot. “B-but–.” “You’re a sweet girl really, just a bit clingy, yeah?” 

And for the second time in two weeks Davy had an ugly red mark on his cheek. 

Mike and Peter stared at Sandra, gobsmacked. No girl had ever hit Davy. She crumbled under their identical stares, her body trembling with the onset of tears. “Sa–.” Peter started, but the young woman was already flinging open the door to the Pad and running out the door.

Mike grabbed Peter’s arm in a warning.  _ What was with all this quick rebound stuff the guys were doing? First Mick now Pete?  _ Peter’s mouth straightened into a hard line, he quickly jerked his arm away and stalked after Sandra. 

Davy was still standing in shock from when Sandra smacked him. Mike went up to the small man and snapped his fingers. “Short stack, c’mon.” Davy blinked. “Oh Mike! My face! Ooo! And poor Sandra! What should I do?” “I think Pete’s got you covered.” Davy simply nodded and Mike blanched. 

“You’re ok with that?” Mike scratched his wool hat. “Well yeah,” Davy looked around again before whispering to Mike. “Between you and me, he needs to get laid. And what better way than on the rebound?”

And in that moment Mike remembered why Davy went on so many dates

~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the early part of the night, he had the room to himself; Micky was still with Alex.

He’d hoped it gone well between them.

Later, a loud knock sounded on their door,  _ bang, bang, bang _ . Mike knew he’d have to go get it, Davy couldn’t see through the peephole.  _ Maybe we should get him a stool.  _

Mike trudged down the stairs and looked through the peephole to see Micky and someone else but they were out of the light. Mike sighed before opening the door. 

“I’m pretty sure  _ this  _ belongs to ya!” Bob Smith said haphazardly shoving Micky into him. As the other man stumbled into him, he smelt reefers. “Mike there’s two of you? Trippy…” Micky mumbled. “Stay a minute Bob.” He demanded of the other man, he wanted to say something to him and get to the bottom of this. “I’m not settin foot in yer hovel! I came to drop ‘im off and I’m goin home!” “You don’t gotta come in, just sit tight a minute, alright! I gotta put Mick down and then I’ll lay into ya!” The man frowned but didn’t make a move. 

Mike led Micky to the couch, who babbled some more about colors and how there’s really only three. Mike hmmed and then went back to Bob.

Mike stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. “Why’d you come here?” “What kinda question is that? Your little friend came to our house thinking we were y’all! So I just–.”

“I got that Bob, but why did it have to be  _ you?”  _ Mike stared the man straight in the eyes, and he watched as Bob grit his teeth. “You’d rather it been Randy?” “Quite frankly anyone other than you.” Mike pokes him in the chest, eyes still set, but hardened. Bob smacked his hand away before grabbing a fist full of Mike’s pajama shirt. “I didn’t say ya could touch me ya filthy monkey!” Mike could feel the other’s hot breath on his face, he scrunched up his nose. “Brush your teeth! Got Damn!” 

Mike covered Bob’s mouth with his hand.

Bob bit down hard on the junction between Mike’s thumb and index finger. His teeth digging into the skin. Mike on reflex aimed a punch for Bob’s throat, causing the man to heave. Bob eased up on his biting, taking a step back, and slipping off the last step. 

Mike against his better judgement dove to catch Bob, and in thus doing so, landed them in quite a compromising position. They were face to face; Mike’s one hand dug into Bob’s lower back, and Bob clutching onto his pajama shirt.

Mike could feel his heart pounding. And his throat was suddenly dry as he was staring into Bob’s dark brown eyes. 

Bob’s expression, Mike couldn’t read but he did see stars.  _ Stars? _

_ “ _ Pull me up, will ya?” Bob said snapping Mike out of his fixation on the stars twinkling in his eyes.

Mike pulled him up, and Bob let go of his shirt. It was now bunched and wrinkled in the front. Bob stepped backward, before turning around to get into the Chimp mobile. He didn’t say a word and neither did Mike. As he drove off, Mike looked at the small stream of blood running down his hand. 

_ I better clean that up.  _


	7. Davy Shows His Colorful Feathers

Micky remembered the events of last night. He remembered first being with Alex.

They’d watched some movies and ate some dinner she cooked. She was from the South, like Mike, and slathered everything in gravy. Biscuits, chicken, mashed potatoes, oh Micky hadn’t eaten like that since that visit with Mike’s folks down in Texas.

Micky was content to die with how full he was but Alex had plans on giving him dessert too.

And then there was only so much crying out of “Mike” that he could take before he had to leave. He tried to ignore her, imagine she’d just meant him instead, but sooner or later he had to face facts. 

_ Why did I think that was a good idea? _

And then he met with Niles and decided a good high was in order to forget his brief lady troubles.

Micky woke up feeling pretty refreshed and a bit hungry. For once he was up earlier than Mike. He popped a piece of bread in the toaster and set the coffee on for them both.

Mike came down and looked Micky straight in the eyes. “Mike?” Micky felt like squirming, with the intensity of the stare. “I was just testing something.” He said before fixing them both cups of coffee.

“Morning fellas!” Davy said with a song in his voice. He approached the table wiggling his eyebrows, “Micky.” He said with a shit eating grin on his face. Micky could feel his face gaining warmth.

Then he smelt burning. “My toast!” Micky scrambled to pull the half burnt pieces out of the toaster, throwing them on a plate. “What Davy?” He said ignoring his blush,  _ how’d the man know?  _ He could’ve just been watching movies with Alex. Not all hangouts at birds houses lead to sex. They could’ve cuddled.  _ Only cuddled.  _

Mike looked at Davy too. He’d only told Mike about the possibility but had yet to tell either of them actually what happened.  _ And where is Pete? _

“It didn’t go well. She was still hung up on Mike.” He said, and Micky blanched. Mike coughed. “But that didn’t mean she didn’t put out, you sly dog you.” 

Mike spit out his coffee as Micky bit down hard on his toast.

“What the hell Davy? I can’t even enjoy my coffee! Now I got that image in my head.” Mike screeched. Davy shrugged and grabbed milk from the ice box for cereal. “What can I say, I can smell sex like a bloodhound.”

“Something’s not right with you.” Mike shakes his head.

“Thanks for telling us for me Davy. I wasn’t planning on sharing this early but I guess that’s fine. Sucks she’s still into Mike though. Maybe it’s the hat. Hey Mike–.” “No.” Mike said, pouring cereal after having to get some for Davy. He couldn’t reach the top shelf.

“Aww come on! You have so many!” “Micky they won’t fit on your head.” Mike continued. Micky pouted. “Your hat doesn’t like my curls.” Mike nodded.

Micky put the cereal there for that reason. It was funny seeing him struggle to get it and then have to begrudgingly pout until one of the Monkees noticed his dilemma. Davy could get all the girls he wanted but they still had one thing over him, his–.

“You know Tiny, I was thinking bout gettin you a stool.” Micky looked over at Mike so fast he almost cracked his neck. Davy looked up at Mike with big dough eyes, “Would you Mike?” “No way! If he can reach stuff then we can’t make fun of how short he is anymore!” Micky objected. “Micky.” Mike frowned and Davy just stuck out his tongue. Micky stretched his mouth, “Blaghhh.” He said wiggling his tongue. Davy pulled back his nose and said, “Agggh.” 

“What are y’all, children?” He got back a “BlaghhAggggh” in response from both of them. Mike couldn’t resist and blew a raspberry at them both.

Peter came in sometime later. Micky and Mike looked over at Davy who  _ sniffed  _ before landing his eyes on Peter. “He’s clean.” Peter smiled, “I did take a shower before I left, Sandra let me use her cherry blossom body wash. Thanks for noticing Davy.”

Micky walked up to Peter and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Good ole squeaky clean Pete. You cheer up Sandra?” Peter nodded. “She was upset that Davy dumped her but through talking it out, she realized that she was so clingy because Davy reminded her of her long lost Chihuahua. So really it wasn’t about him at all. She’s not ready for the dating scene yet but invited us to a banquet her friend was having. She thought we could spice it up.” 

Micky chuckled as Mike said, “I always thought Davy was a bitch.” Which earned Mike a punch in the arm from Davy.

~~~~~~~~~~

All four Monkees dressed up in fancy suits for the dinner party Sandra was having. Davy wore a red velvet suit jacket; so the birds could flock to his colorful feathers, similar to any male species attracting the attention of a mate.

Sandra had her blond hair pint up into a high bun with a few loose curls. She had a shiny teal dress that just showed her black heels. A shame she wasn’t into the dating scene right now because she looked absolutely stunning. “You look great Sandra.” Peter said with his award winning smile. Micky clamped his mouth shut, lest he embarrass himself but nodded enthusiastically instead. “Oh Pete you always know what to say.” She said bring him to her bosom in a hug, she was on top of the steps. 

When she released him she greeted the rest of them. “I’m so glad you guys could make it! But...there’s been a change of plans…” Micky could only wonder what they could be, although it didn’t really surprise him that this sort of thing was happening.

They stepped inside and across the room, the four Chimps stood. “My friend’s first choice responded back.” Sandra bit her lip. “But Pete told me you all got on well so it shouldn’t be a problem right?” Sandra smiled, Micky could tell it was forced. “Right.” Peter nodded.

Sandra could sense the unease and said, “Let me go get my friend, Mary.” She left the room.

The Monkees met the Chimps eye to eye. “I don’t want no funny business out of you Mike.” Randy said narrowing his eyes. Micky felt compelled to joke, “We don’t do funny business. We tend to Monkee around. And I tend to do most of the monkeying around in this group, thank you very much.” Micky said.

Randy grit his teeth and stepped forward, bumping Micky’s chest. “Micky, you’re funny but I’m trying to be serious. Please.” Micky saw the twitch in his jaw and smiled. “Walk with me babe.” He said slinging an arm around Randy’s shoulders. “It was just a little slip up. Mike’s not gonna bother your guys, we’re not  _ that  _ type of band. Alright? No need to twist your mouth all like that.” “I just, I don’t deal with  _ those _ types, it ain’t right man. It’s like a disease, when one’s got it then more people catch it.” Micky nodded. “I get it man. I get it.”

When they rejoined the two sets of trios, he saw Dave looking at him. Micky flashed him a smile, but the young man just frowned and looked away instead.  _ Such an angry little guy.  _

Sandra soon returned with Mary. Mary was shorter than Sandra, and was a brunette with her hair in a low bun. She had on red lipstick and could only be described as curvy. 

And Micky had to roll his eyes at the stars in her eyes when her gaze landed on Davy. “Mary?” Sandra said waving her hand in Mary’s face. “Well I didn’t know the Monkees had such attractive men in their band too.” Sandra too rolled her eyes, having fell for the same song and dance. “Mary what do we do? We have two acts booked at the same time.” “Oh relax Sandra, food on the house for you Monkees and the Chimps can still play their number.” “But we—.” Mike started. “Mary, The Monkees really need this gig.” Sandra spoke up, and in that moment Micky felt like he was in love with her.

Mary looked unconvinced until Davy stepped forward. In this one instance he praised the Englishman’s natural charm. “Now Mary, how do you expect me to take you on a date to a fancy five star restaurant if I don’t have any funds?” Davy stepped closer to Mary who was frozen on the spot. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered something the rest of them couldn’t hear, but Micky could take a good guess by how her cheeks turned a dark scarlet.

“W-well Mr. Jones when you put it that way.” Mary fanned herself with her gloved hand. “Hey now!” Bob spoke up. “We were here first! You can’t just give those long haired weirdos our gig just because the short one makes you—.” George quickly slaps a hand over Bob’s mouth. Again Micky had an idea of what he was going to say and let out a chuckle.

“He’s right.” George said. This was the first time Micky had heard him talk, and it was eerily creepy. His own voice was coming out of another person’s mouth that wasn’t him, but it was sooo boring and monotonous.

“Don’t listen to them Mary.” Davy breathed, gaze serious and pointed on Mary. And once again Mary was trapped under the stars. Micky was again thankful this once, sure he’d like free food but they really needed to pay Mr, Babbit for the rent. “Let’s have a contest, yeah? And whoever the crowd likes more, gets the money.” Davy suggested. And Mary nodded like a marionette on a string. “Alright, that’s settled!” Sandra concluded and took Mary by the arm. 

Mary snapped to her senses once she was pulled away from Davy. “See you on stage boys!” She giggled as Davy blew her a kiss.

Bob growled. “May the best band win.” Mike said, shaking Randy’s hand. “Likewise.” He said in return.

In true Monkees fashion they lost against the Chimps. “Everyone’s a critic.” Micky muttered to the crowd at the few cheers they got. 

Mike slung an arm around Pete and Micky himself. “Don’t be so down fellas. We’ll get an extension from Babbit.” “We already asked Babbit for an extension. This was it.” Peter corrected him. “Well, we always pull through, we’ll get the money somehow.” Mike says, shaking Peter a little. Davy popped in between Micky and Mike’s torsos, “Mike’s right.”

The Chimps met the Monkees again as they were packing up. “That was fun. We’ll see you around Monkees.” Randy said as they returned with a “bye” in unison. Micky saw that the smallest Chimp, Dave stayed back a little. He was looking right at Micky, albeit a bit nervous and fidgety. 

“I like your singing. T-those other blokes are deaf.” Micky let out a snort. “You wanna tell them that?” The other Monkees joined him in laughter. Dave stood still, eyes downcast and hands fidgeting before a sharp, “Dave!” was called by Bob. The young man jumped in his skin before frowning. “I’m coming. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” With that he joined his band mates.

Later that night the Monkees came in from the gig, and went into their respective rooms to sleep. 

~~~~~

Once again their sleep was broken by a knock on the door.

Micky sprang up. “Mike?” He questioned if the Texan was up. Mike was already by the door to their room. “C’mon Mick.” Mike beckoned him and Micky picked up his drumsticks. Mike was wielding a lamp.

After a brief struggle on Mike’s part with the lamp. They joined Peter and Davy on the main floor. Davy stood behind Peter with a bat, while Peter was armed with nothing. He was going to open the door. 

Peter motioned for them to come closer. They were all crowded behind Peter. “One,two, three!” Peter yanked open the door and crouched in a ball as the rest of the Monkees charged forward. “Ahhhh!” They screamed into the open night air. Only for Mike to say, “Cool it guys. There’s no one here.” “Oh.” Micky frowned, lowering his sticks. “Hey look there’s a letter on the ground.” Davy said squatting to pick it up.

“Fellas! We’ve struck gold.” Davy smiled showing the check for $90.00 just enough for rent that was inside the envelope.

“Free money, I like the sound of that!” Micky said. Mike’s face was scrunched up in the way that said he was suspicious. “Oh Mike, Don’t do that. Accept the miracle.” Micky reassured him with a pat on the back. Mike grabbed the check from Davy and squinted. “I can make out an ‘R’ in the signature.” “So you’re saying that Randy from the Chimps paid our rent.” Peter said.

The three other Monkees blinked. Micky turned to Peter, “How do you know that?” Peter pulled out a piece of paper, “It says so right here in the script.” Micky looked at the paper, “Pete it’s blank.” Peter shrugged, “I know what I read.”

“Anyway, even if it was we have no proof.” Mike said.

“It’s a bit late for an investigation. Let’s go back in and get some sleep; I’m tired.” Davy said, yawning Peter and Micky followed him in. Micky noticed Mike was not behind him and stood in the door frame. “You’re not coming in?” Mike turned to him on the porch. “I’ll be in, in a minute Mick. I wanted to think about some things.” “You alright Mike?” “Yeah just need to clear my headspace that’s all.” Mike said looking back at the stars.

Micky went inside and he didn’t trust the miracle mystery check all that much anymore either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	8. Micky Plans a Break In

As punishment for putting the cereal out of reach, Micky was forced to accompany Davy to the store to buy a stool. It had been a few weeks since the dinner party. They had the rent squared away for that month.

Davy enjoyed driving with Micky if he wasn’t distracted. Davy knew he should have brought his books so he could drive. Micky was swerving and breaking last minute.

When they’d gotten there Davy had a hand over his heart, trying to calm his breathing. “Jesus Micky!” “What?” Davy sighed, “Let’s just get the stool.” “Affirmative.” Micky said in what could be described as a secret agent Double O Dolenz voice before jumping out of the MonkeeMobile.

Davy growled as he stood on his tiptoes to try and reach the stools on the top shelf.  _ What wanker thought it would be a good idea to put stools out of reach for the vertically challenged? _

Micky stood back, snickering at his struggling. “Could ya give me a hand here?” Davy begrudgingly said stepping away from the shelf. Micky grinned wide. “Why certainly.” He easily plucked a wooden stool from its place on top of another. Davy snatched the stool from him.

They paid for the stool and were on their way back to the pad, except when they pulled into a parking space they were in front of a complex. A very Chimps like complex. Davy was getting tired of being taken to locations that were not in their original plan. _ Is it that hard to let me in on the plan beforehand? _ He didn’t consider himself unreasonable.

“This isn’t the Pad.” Davy deadpanned. “Good eye Watson.” Micky adorned what could be called an accent of poise. “We are here to investigate the case of the mysterious check left on our doorstep.” “And why am I here?” “Elementary, my dear Watson; I could boost you into that window.” Davy sighed.

“Plus the only costume they had was in a child’s size.” Davy grabbed Micky’s nose between his two fingers. “Ouch! No costumes then.” But Davy did take the hat from the costume and plopped it on his own head.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Davy asked a bit intrigued that they would be investigating a mystery like the infamous Holmes. “Well I’ve been hiding out in the bushes for the past week, watching their day to day routine. And I’ve--.” “Hold on, when have you had time to do that?” Davy did notice the Pad had been quieter this week but wasn’t sure why.

Micky shook his head, “Davy, Davy, Davy. You’ve been preoccupied with Mary, Pete with Sandra, and Mike with writing letters to some girl from the banquet named Roberta or something, so I slipped out real easy saying I was going to the beach. I’m a bit hurt, none of you were concerned when I’d come in at nightfall with dirt on my face and leaves in my hair,” Micky laughed. Davy felt a little bad  _ none _ of them noticed. 

“Sorry bout that Micky.” Davy said looking down and fidgeting with his hands. “Nah man it’s cool! It made it easier to steak out the Chimps that’s all.” Micky said putting a hand on his shoulder. “So as I was saying, the Chimps all head out to bowl around this time. So I say we have about...an hour to find record of a check.”

And that was how he found himself standing on top of Micky’s shoulders, scrambling to get inside the open window of the first floor. Once inside Davy reached his arms down to pull Micky up. “No! Just go open the door!” Micky said. “No! The receptionist would get suspicious.” “And she wouldn’t seeing you pull me into the apartment?” “Is she outside? I don’t think so! Just let me pull you up!” “You aren’t strong enough!” And at that moment the two heard a car door slam.

Micky jumped up and grabbed onto Davy’s arms. “Pull me up! Pull me up!” He said in a panic. Micky was right, he wasn’t strong enough and stumbled forward, slipping a bit out of the window. “You were right, I can’t!” “Well you’ve got to man! Can’t you do that thing where if you’re in love you have ten times the strength of what you normally would?” 

Yeah Davy supposed it could apply here. He didn’t want them to get caught, and he did love Micky; they were all pretty much family. So with the strength of ten thousand men Davy pulled Micky into the Chimps apartment.

“Gosheroonie Davy I’m glad I mean that much to you.” Davy shrugged, “I also didn’t want to go to jail.” “You’re right Watson. We have a case to solve!” Micky took out a magnifying glass getting back into character.

Micky and himself searched for a checkbook on the dining table, on the couch, between the cushions and under the sink in the cupboards. “Damn where could it be?” He asked tapping his cheek and furrowing his eyebrows. “Maybe Randy’s bedroom?” Micky suggested. 

“Alright let’s–.” They heard a sharp  _ click.  _ The sound of a door unlocking. “ _ Which room?”  _ Davy hissed. Micky picked a random one on the right, closest to the bathroom and pushed Davy inside. Davy scrambled under the bed and Micky ran into the closet.

_ “I thought you said they wouldn’t be here for an hour!”  _ Davy whispered towards the closet. “ _ They shouldn’t be!”  _ Micky’s voice whispered from the closet. Davy hoped that they wouldn’t come into their bedrooms right away. He needed time to think. 

Davy heard the door slam and the sound of a singular pair of footsteps creaking across the wooden floor. Each creak increased the thump of Davy’s heart.  _ Creak.  _ Thump.  _ CreAAK.  _ Thump.Thump.  _ CrEAAK.  _ Thump.Thump.Thump. 

He saw a pair of brown shoes enter the room. “They’re always ask’n me so many questions. Can’t a fella come home early to get a few minutes of peace before the lot comes in makin’ a rukus?”

They were in Bob’s room, not Randy’s. 

“They’re so fuckin’ nosy, it’s a shame I can’t read my letters in peace.” Davy heard the creak of the mattress and felt a small dig in his back. A small rip was heard before a paper was crumpled. “Of course she would think that. The only one who has any sense around here.” 

A few minutes later Bob shifted in his bed. “I can get me ‘bout 20 winks before they get back.”

The room was only filled with the sound of Bob’s breathing, before a small  _ plop  _ was heard. A check book was right within Davy’s grasp. Davy grabbed it and flipped through, seeing a carbon copy written to  _ The Monkees. _ Davy tried to rip it out slowly but it wouldn’t budge. And after a few tugs he finally got it. 

_ RIIIIPPPP  _ echoed throughout the quiet room. 

Davy’s heart froze in his chest. 

And then he was staring straight in the eyes of one Robert Smith. 

It happened so fast, Micky lunged from the closet and jumped onto Bob’s back as Davy scrambled from under the bed. “Get off of me!” Bob screeched trying to maneuver from under Micky which was tricky considering they were on a bed. Once Micky saw Davy, he rolled off of Bob. Davy had grabbed a fallen pillow in the shuffle and threw it at Bob to allow himself and Micky time to get out of there.

Micky closed the door and Davy ran to the window. “No time!” Micky said running past him, and Bob emerged with a lamp in hand. “Monkees!” He yelled and Davy felt the hairs on the back of his neck spike and a chill go down his spine.

Davy looked at the ground, Micky at the door and Bob gaining on his right and took a leap of faith out the window. 

“Davy!” He heard Micky yell before he landed face first  _ smack _ into the grass. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davy woke up to the angry face of Mike. “H-hey Mike.” He rasped over the pounding in his head. “What in the hell were you guys thinking?” Micky had rushed him to the doctor after his fall, and they diagnosed him with a mild concussion and bruised ribs. So he’d taken some pain killers and took a nap.

“Mike, you know we don’t do much thinking when it comes to plans.” Micky said bringing out a tray of cookies from the oven. Davy furrowed his eyebrows before his vision adjusted and it was actually Peter who was taking cookies out of the oven. Micky was on the arm of the couch to his right. Davy dug in his pocket. “Proof!” He said waving the carbon copy in Mike’s face.

“Yep Bob was the one who wrote our check!” Micky said. Davy had mumbled in his dazed stupor something about flying checks and angry musicians among other random phrases. Micky was able to decipher that Bob was the one and not Randy based on that.

Mike’s face did not let up, it bore down on Davy and Micky, deep set in a scowl. “You done almost got yerselves killed over a fuckin’ piece a paper?” Mike’s southern accent tended to thicken when he was upset, but Davy not really all together in the head at the moment said, “Proof! You wanted proof Mike! We got it!” He smiled, letting out a giggle, before leaning back. That seemed to only make Mike angrier. 

“Mike, Davy had an ultimatum and honestly chose the right one. Bob would’ve given him worse if he’d let him catch him.” Micky said taking a cookie Peter offered. “Micky, breakin’ t’ anoer man’s house to steal ‘S illegal! Yer lucky the Chimps didn’ call the cops!” “Mike, Mike, Mike, who are we?” Micky shook his head, a smirk coming onto his face. “Don’t you dare say ‘the protagonists of this story!’” Mike said pointing right at Micky’s nose. “Huh? No, ‘The Monkees!’ We’re ‘The Monkees!’ And we always get into trouble but never legal trouble.” 

Mike frowned but relented. “I hope you’re right this time.”

And at that Davy fell back into the black abyss of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	9. Mike Writes Letters To Someone

Peter had another hunch. Maybe Bob was a nice guy underneath those layers of rude, bitter and distasteful he tended to show everyone else. And he thought that maybe Mike thought so too.

Peter decided that he would check the mailbox on the way home from the park. He would be walking by it on the way home anyway. Although, Mike made it his mission to check their P.O. Box, always making various excuses as to why it had to be him and not the others.

Oh and yes, they had a P.O. Box to free up their mailbox just in case a big break came through, and they’d have tons of fan mail. It did require Peter to play guitar at the park for spare change to pay it though.

Peter sorted through the usual spam mail to find two letters of actual importance. A letter from Pamala, and one from... _ Robert _ ?  _ Who would he be sending letters to?  _ Peter thought he hated their guts.

Peter looked at the name of the recipient,  _ Michelle Nesmith. Was that a relative of Mike’s? _ He’d never heard of her before, but they’d never discussed families all that often either.  _ Why was she receiving and sending mail from their P.O. Box?  _ Peter shook his head. 

_ Must’ve been misaddressed,  _ he thought. So Peter went up to the postal service clerk and explained the dilemma. “Oh alright young man, I’ll return it to the sender.” The elderly woman said putting a big red inked “missaddressed” stamp over the recipient address. “Thank you ma’am.” Peter smiled, taking the rest of his letters back to the Pad.

When Peter got back in Mike was at the coat rack grabbing his hat. “Oh hey Big Peter I’m going to go check the box.” Mike said going past him towards the door. “Oh no need Mike, I already got our mail.” Peter said proudly waving the envelopes. Mike’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“Any mail for us?” He said stopping in his tracks. “Mostly spam, but I did get a letter from Pamala.” Peter said walking over to the kitchen to get himself some water from the tap. “We got some misaddressed mail too. You should really give Robert the right address for your relative.”

Peter felt Mike’s presence looming behind him. Peter turned taking a sip of water. He blinked. “Mike?” Mike’s expression was blank. “I-I’ve gotta go.” Mike said backing away from him, face white as a sheet. He backed away even faster when Peter advanced, setting his glass on the table. “What’s wrong Mike?” Mike reached the door, and Peter just made it to close it back.

Mike fumbled with the door but between the four Monkees, Peter was the strongest and Mike was the weakest. Mike slumped his shoulders, defeated. He slowly turned around, leaning back against the door, and facing Peter. Mike’s bangs hid his eyes. “That letter was mine.” He said voice just above a whisper.

Peter took his hand from against the door, using it to scratch his head. “Yours? I’m pretty sure you’re name isn’t Michelle. Bob must be a bad speller. You should tell him it’s Micheal.” Peter smiled at Mike with kind eyes.

But when Mike met Peter’s eyes his were tired. “I could run with your naivety but I’m sure it would’ve happened with the others too. So I guess I better spill the beans.” “Wow Mike if you made a mess, we should really get to cleaning.” Peter said turning back toward the kitchen but Mike grabbed hold of his arm. 

“Pete...I’m going to get that letter. A-and I’ll explain everything to you when I get back.” “Ok Mike. I’ll clean up those beans while you’re gone.” Mike shook his head, with a smile before letting go of Peter’s arm.

_ If Bob was sending  _ **_Mike_ ** _ letters, did that make them friends? _ Peter smiled because it seemed like Bob needed a friend like Mike.  _ But why did Mike feel the need to hide it from them? _

Peter, after searching the first floor for any sign of spilled beans was disappointed to find none. Peter was about to go upstairs when the door opened and Mike reappeared with the letter in hand. 

“I didn’t find any spilled beans Mike.” Peter said as Mike motioned him to the couch. “Take a seat Peter.” Mike said, exhaustion in his voice.

Peter sat down on the couch, resting his hands on his lap, eyes focused on Mike. 

“Peter I-I...I’m–.” Peter wasn’t Micky or Davy, he couldn’t fill in the blanks for this one. “You’re…?” Peter tried coaxing. 

Mike’s face was beet red. “I couldn’t just go out there bare bones about it! You know what they’d do to me Pete? So I had to...use someone else’s name!” He blurted out. Peter felt like he missed something. If he had that missing piece then maybe what Mike was saying would make some sense to him. Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “So...he addressed it to... Michelle...on...purpose?” Peter pronounced the syllables slow, not quite sure if the strings of words formed a coherent sentence. “Well yes, but no.” Mike said feeling the envelope in his hands. 

Peter was even more confused. “Mike, I’m not good at guessing. If you don’t want to tell me then that’s ok. I’ll just remember that if it’s for Michelle, it’s for you because Bob isn’t a good speller I guess.” Peter saw Mike visibly relax. “Thanks Pete. And could you please not tell the others?” “But Mike, it’s just a misspelled name. If you’re friends with Bob that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Mike sighed.“Peter it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I won’t tell.” Peter relented because whatever this was, it was important to Mike. And if it was important to Mike it was important to him too.

And just then the phone rang.

Mike walked over to answer the bright red phone. “Hello–. Davy did what?” There was a pause before Mike had a deep set frown on his face. “Goddamnit Micky; I oughta kill you! We’ll be there as soon as we can!” Mike said with a slam to the receiver. 

Peter looked at Mike with worry. “We’re hopping on the bus. Davy jumped out of a two story window, and is at the hospital. Those dumbasses thought it’d be a good idea to play detective.” Mike grabbed what was left of the rent money and stalked out the door. Peter hurried behind him, closing the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davy was in bed sleeping off his concussion, the three Monkees carried him to bed after his second pass out on the couch.

Peter was in bed now thinking about the little pieces of information he’d gathered today. Turns out Robert sent them the money, and is pen pals with Mike. 

But again it puzzled him as to why those two things were  _ secrets _ .

“Peter.” He heard a faint whisper from across the room. “Davy?” He thought the smaller man was resting. 

“Don’t you think it’s strange that Bob sent us money?” “Yeah a little.” “Why would he do that?” “I don’t know Davy, maybe Bob actually likes us, but he doesn’t want to show it.” “It’s strange though, he doesn’t seem to like his band mates either. Only his girlfriend.”

“How do you know he has a girlfriend?” They barely knew anything about the Chimps. “I heard him say that a girl he writes letters to is the only one who understands him. I’m guessing. It could be his sister too.”

Peter purses his lips in thought. “But maybe you’re right Pete. He’s got some heart in that rotten chest cavity of his for our band. And I guess that makes him all right.” 

“Mhmmm.” Peter agreed on the edges of sleep. He knew that sometimes filling in the blanks led to trouble, so it was best he didn’t try at all. 

But if Peter were to try he would say that Bob was being nice because he and Mike were friends. 

And that  _ was _ nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	10. Davy Pieces The Wrong Things Together

Mike kept telling himself that he was only going over to the Chimp’s apartment complex to smooth things over with Bob so he didn’t press charges. He took one last look at the letter before knocking on the door. He heard some rummaging around before the door swung open. 

“I was in the middle of showering, what the hell do you want?” Bob said not missing a beat. Mike saw the glistening of water droplets on his face and a bit on what was exposed of his chest through the robe. His brows were furrowed and his mustache looked freshly trimmed. 

“I wanna talk.” 

“All you ever wanna do is talk Nesmith. I outta press charges on your buddies for breaking and entering.”

“See now that’s what I want to talk about. Can I come in?” Bob looked at him, a sneer on his face. “Only because I wanna get from outside in my robe.”

Bob stepped back and let Mike in. Mike perched himself on the couch, wiping his sweaty palms. He was surprised that Bob plopped himself right next to him. “So lay it on me.” Mike looked away, clearing his throat. “Aren’t ya gonna get dressed? I could wait.” “I don’t want you here any longer than you need to be, I can feel myself getting dirtier by the minute from you.” He said dusting himself of imaginary dirt. 

Mike looked down at the paper in his hands, the envelope with the letter. “The guys they get antsy ya know? And when you left the rent money they just had to find out who did it. I was surprised too Bob. I know you hate us with every fiber of your being.” Mike felt the crisp paper in his hands, previously sealed. Mike looked into Bob’s dark brown eyes as he simply asked, “Why?”

Bob grit his teeth and reached forward, grabbing a fist full of Mike’s hair. Mike had forgotten his hat. “What in the hell?” Mike asked, fear lacing his voice. The Monkees weren’t fighters, and Mike’s flight response was kicking in. “You wanna know why Nesmith? Cause no matter how much I try, you won’t leave me alone!” Mike had not forced himself into Bob’s life... _after_ their initial meeting when the Monkees first intersected their lives with the Chimps. It was Bob who came to _him_ twice _._

His hands and feet fidgeted, adrenaline rush kicking in. “I never–.” He started as Bob leaned in close so they were nose to nose. Bob eyed the letter. “I had a feeling Michelle wasn’t real.” He said quietly, his hand slipping from Mike’s hair to gently cup his cheek. Mike’s face felt warm from the touch. He saw the smallest of stars in his eyes. Mike pulled away, heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled to the other side of the couch.

“Y-you know? W-what’re you gonna do? Y’all gonna jump me?” Mike said looking around wildly for the other Chimps. He would face the consequences for his actions. He knew the risk in sending those letters, but he couldn’t keep his feelings in. He’d followed Davy’s advice but it only backfired, making him more interested in the guitarist. “Mike are you really a fool?” Bob scooted over to his space. He placed his hands on Mike’s shoulders. His knees on either side of Mike’s hips. 

Breath hot against Mike’s ear, water droplets hitting his skin. Mike felt dizzy, everything was too hot, too constricting. “I–I.” His words caught in his throat. Bob leaned down, wrapping his arms around Mike’s neck, and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. 

Mike’s heart beat loud in his ears, the kiss was short, but still left tingles on his lips in the aftermath. Mike’s eyes widened, he didn’t know what to do, he just stayed frozen before Bob rested his head onto his shoulder. Then Bob curled himself small against him, tangling his legs into Mike’s. He breathed out a shuddering sigh. 

Mike returned his embrace. He’d done this before when Peter, and on occasion the others, were scared. But this, it felt more intimate. 

“I never hated you Mike. I like you and I hope you feel the same.” Bob said quietly. Mike took a second to take that information in before responding. _Holy shit!_ “I-I like you too. But we’re never telling anyone else. They’d kill us.” 

“They’d feed us to the dogs.” He said as a matter of fact.

And in that moment it rang quite clearly that life would never be the same again.

~~~~~~~~

The door handle jiggled, and they sprung apart so fast Mike was dizzy again.

“I don’t know why you thought you could talk things over and it be alright! Get out of here before I press charges!” Bob bellowed as the door opened to the other three Chimps. Mike scrambled up from the couch. “Alright, Alright! I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to talk to you either!” Mike said looking at Randy and stalking toward the door. “Wait Mike, Bob doesn’t speak for all of us.” He said grabbing Mike’s shoulder.

“Naw! I’ve had it up to here with him. He’s not civil!” Mike shrugged him off and stormed out the door.

_I hope that was good enough._

_~~~~~~~~~~_

When Mike got back, Micky sprung up from the couch. “Where were you young man? Your mother and I were worried!” He said gesturing to Peter who had a blanket over his head like a babushka. Peter nodded furiously.

“Oh cut that out. You know I was trying to smooth out the mess you all made.” “You might wanna smooth out your hair.” Davy said from the staircase. “It’s sticking straight up.”

Mike reached up and patted his hair down, cheeks warming with blush. _Did the Chimps wonder about that?_

“Like I was saying we coulda got into some serious trouble.” “But we didn’t, like always. You worry too much Mike.” Micky said waving him off. 

Just then the phone rang, Micky walked over to answer it. “Hey Randy, you never call! What’s up fellow primate?” Mike started chewing on another hangnail.

“Mike? Yeah he’s here.” There was a pause as Micky turned to Mike with a look of confusion. “They had a fallout? Oh no man, he didn’t tell us that. Mhmm. Yeah, I’ll tell him.” Micky paused a beat to listen. “We’re still cool, of course man. I’m pretty sure they’ll cool down; if it gets too bad then we won’t come around anymore, honest.” Micky then hung up the phone. 

“Mike! You didn’t settle anything at all! Randy said you stormed out before he had a chance to calm you down.” Micky exclaimed. “We’re not getting charged, so you should be happy.” Mike said grabbing his hat and putting it on. “I don’t want us to be on bad terms with the Chimps.” Mike looked at Micky, squinting his eyes. “Micky you do know that you’re the only one who gets along with them right? We’re not really on the best terms as is.” 

Mike looked to Davy who nodded saying, “Bob, Dave n’ George don’t really like me so I don’t like them either.” 

Peter shrugged, “I like them plenty, but I can see they’re not fond of me.”

Micky made an audible gasp, “You all lied to me!” Micky put the back of his hand up to his forehead. “Oh woe is me, stabbed in the back by my own kin!” He stated dramatically as he fell back onto the couch. Peter blinked as Micky fell onto him. “M-Micky you’re on my–.” Peter wheezed. “Silence!” He yelled with “new found” strength. 

“I must rid thyself of this travesty!” He said getting up and going over to the sink and grabbing a pan. Mike’s eyes widened before he sprinted over to the sink, stopping the pan a mere few inches from colliding with Micky’s face. “Micky! Don’t do that!” Micky looked back at him with a smile. “Gotta keep you on your toes Mike!”

For some reason that struck him deep. Micky looked at him like he knew something. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, while Micky called all the hogs that were in the general area, Mike was awake.

He was restless, held down by the weight of the new burden Bob and him now shared. Peter already to some degree knew about the letters. He trusted Peter but he didn’t trust the others not to look into the mysterious Michelle or why Bob continued to spell his name wrong. 

It was too unstable, so maybe they’d have to find another way for them to keep in contact with each other. 

Another part of him was happy things were progressing. He and Bob would still be at each other’s throats. There was an unmistakable tension between them that begged for a hot blooded war. And Mike wondered what it would be like when that tension snapped like a wound up spring.

He couldn’t get the vision of Bob in his robe out of his head, his smooth milky white skin and slender legs. The slight cold pressure of his fingertips against Mike’s cheek. The incredible warmth that suffocated him, crawling up his neck, filling up his lungs and clipping his tongue. Mike could hardly breathe, everything was tight, even when he kissed him. Although, he felt a bit of clam holding Bob like a mother would a baby. It brought him relief, like maybe everything wasn’t so bad in this messed up world after all.

He remembered his eyes, those dark brown pools held stars floating just above the surface, dancing across Mike’s face.

_Stars?_

Mike sprung up so fast the bed _creaked_ in protest. He quickly looked to see Micky still sound asleep, letting out a brief snort before he continued with his loud snoring. 

Mike slipped on his slippers, shuffling across the floor to the door of their room. Mike slowly inched his way downstairs. He tried to open the door as quietly as he could, Peter was a sensitive sleeper. 

He squinted his eyes, taking in the two lumps on the beds. He eyed the smallest lump that was facing him. Davy’s hair was tousled, but other features were calm. 

Mike crept over to the bed and shook Davy’s shoulder. “Davy.” He whispered. “Mmmary...don’ do tha…” Davy slurred in response. “Davy!” Mike whispered again. Davy opened his dark brown eyes to stare right at Mike’s face. 

“Mike?” Davy whispered in confusion. “We need to talk.” Mike said to him before turning to leave. 

Mike sat at the table having poured two cups of milk for them both. Davy crept out of the room, checking his wristwatch. “Bloody hell, it’s 3 o’clock in the mornin’ Mike!” Davy whispered. “Is it? Sorry bout that Tiny, I had some things on my mind.” Mike said sipping his milk. Davy sat in the chair across from him and grabbed his own milk. “What ales you babe?” He asked. Mike knew it was going to sound silly, but Davy himself had called the stars magic so he had to know something.

“I-I’ve been seeing stars.” Davy continued to sip his milk. “Oh.” He looked intrigued. “That’s not possible! Only you see stars!” It was the only reason he had an indication of Bob’s feelings...the only reason he felt so bold to send those letters. 

And then Mike saw it, the upward quirk of Davy’s lips. They twitched for a moment before they flattened into a hard line. Davy shrugged. “I don’t know Mike, maybe it’s all in your head. As you said, magic doesn’t exist.” 

“Magic doesn’t exist! I-I know what I saw, but how could I?” Mike was getting stifled. _Magic didn’t exist!_ The stars weren’t magic and... they were apart of his imagination. Mike pursed his lips and let a short breath out of his nose. “Yeah it must've been in my head.”

“So whose eyes did you see stars in?” Davy asked. Mike racked his brain, “...well I met her at the banquet–.” Davy snapped his fingers, “Roberta! That’s right, Micky said you’ve been writing her letters! Is she the one you were trying to get over?” Davy’s eyes had lit up, the 

talk of romance brightening his once sleepy features. “Yeah.” Mike decided that splitting them up would be confusing and cause Davy to ask even more questions.

“See Mike, now you don’t have to get over her!” Davy set his milk down, white mustache and a wide smile on his face. _You wouldn’t say that if you knew._ “I guess that’s true.” “Mike you should bring her around now that you guys talk, and you’re both hung up on each other! I can see it now…”

And Davy started rambling about him and Roberta. How her visits to the Pad would go. 

“Do you think she’d be a good kisser? Do you think she’d be any good in the bedroom? Oh, what if she’s a virgin?”

With each question Davy looked about ready to bounce from his seat, filling to the brim with excitement.

Mike stuttered out incomplete statements and clumped together phrases, unable to find the correct responses but Davy didn’t seem to care or notice. 

“What does she look like?”

“Well she’s short, has blonde hair and green eyes. She lives far away, and never has time to visit because she’s busy with her schoolwork.” 

“So she’s a college girl? But I’m pretty sure they have breaks. She’s gotta visit home sometime.” “W-well yes but her dad’s really strict. So we’re keeping it long distance.”

“That’s no good! We could scrounge up some money to see her instead!” Davy got up and Mike rushed over to halt the smaller man.

“No man! We’re ok with how it is now. Roberta and I’ll figure it out later down the line. I appreciate your concern.” Davy gave him a lopsided grin. “Ok Mike. But you’ll be sorry when the both of you need to take care of your urges.” Davy shrugged. “If you need me, let me know. I live for romantic adventures.”

“I will Tiny, I will.” Mike ruffles the shorter man’s hair. Davy let out a yawn and mumbled a goodnight er...morning.

Mike would not involve Davy. Things got complicated the more people who were involved.

And the last thing he wanted was for the Monkees to beat the everloving shit out of him. 

Or worse, find him disgusting and disown him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	11. Peter Keeps A Secret

Micky knew something was going on because Peter was always getting the mail. Mike was getting the mail and now Peter?

Micky wondered if mail gathering was a dictatorship. Like Mike had elected himself the mail gatherer and then passed the job off to Peter through some corrupt coup, not giving hardworking democrats like Micky the opportunity to run for the position. It wasn’t that serious, Davy had reassured him, but he wouldn’t be Micky if he wasn’t wound up on something. 

He chose this instance to focus his boundless energy.

“Oh Peter!” Micky called. Davy was out with Mary and Mike had taken the MonkeeMobile to find them a gig.

“Yes Micky?” Peter answered from the bottom of the stairs. “Come up here for a moment.” Micky had the rope ready in his hand. He had to be quick. Micky was just above Mike and below Davy on the Monkee strength scale; Peter could easily overpower him. Micky read all about hogties last week in preparation.

He listened as Peter ascended the steps, ear by the doorframe. The creak of the wooden steps as each one held onto Peter’s weight. Micky swallowed.

“Mick— “ “AHHHAAA!” Micky yelled fastening the rope around Peter’s arms, and pulling it tight. He made speedy work of his legs too. 

“Micky?!” Peter balked in confusion. “W-why are you tying me up? I’ll tell Mike and he’ll take away your chemistry set!” 

“I’m a grown man Peter, Mike can’t do that.” Peter pouted. Micky led Peter to a chair taken from downstairs. Mike could do that but Peter didn’t have to know that. He struggled against his binds before sighing. 

“Is this some kind of thing you do with girls?”

“Huh?”

“D-Davy told me that sometimes girls like to be tied up and sometimes they like to tie you up. Are we doing that? Because you could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded giving it a try just once.” _What did those two discuss in that little room of theirs?_

Micky did not relax his face muscles, they were screwed up tight from the utter confusion and repulsion of it all.

“No, Peter, we’re not doing anything like that! I-I’m gonna have a talk with Davy about what exactly he’s been telling you.”

“Micky I’m a grown man. I can talk about…” then he lowered his voice to a whisper “S.E.X... freely now.” 

“I know, but I’m curious myself too.” 

“So why am I tied up?” Peter asked, changing the subject. 

“I’m gonna ask you some questions.”

“I didn’t have to be tied up for that!” Peter wailed in anguish. 

“I didn’t want you to avoid them. Plus it was fun.” Micky smiled. Peter frowned.

“What’s with you getting the mail all the time?” Micky said crossing his arms.

“I’m giving Mike a break.” Peter said plain and simple.

“Well what about me?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “What about you?”

“Yes, why was there a problem when I asked to get the mail? For Pete’s sake you were at the beach and Mike didn’t let me go get the mail. He phoned you to pick them up instead!” 

“Well I was already out. I didn’t mind.” Peter smiled and Micky frowned at him.

“Peter is there something you don’t want me to know?” “If there was something I didn’t want you to know, how would you know that I would know that there’s something you shouldn’t know?” Micky felt his thoughts scramble around in his head. “Peter!” He yelled grabbing the man’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Micky you’re scaring me!” Peter looked on the brink of tears. _What am I doing? Peter doesn’t know anything. He would’ve told me otherwise. Why am I terrorizing him?_

“I’m sorry Peter, I just feel so in the dark. Like you both are hiding something from me.” Peter bit his lip.

“But that’s not true.” Peter said. Micky thought for a moment before sighing,“Yeah, I’m just jumping to conclusions. Anyway, I heard from Davy that Mike and Roberta are going steady. They’re writing letters back and forth.” Micky said changing the subject and brightening up.

“Hmm, that sounds nice.” Peter said tapping his foot.

“Yeah but she’s in college and they’re scared to see each other because of her strict parents. Davy and I think we should go down there and get her! Just one weekend, UCLA isn’t that far. It would be a nice surprise for Mike.” A rush of words came tumbling out the more excited he got about their big plan.

“I dunno Micky.” “Pete, Mike’s been worried about getting us a gig. He has only smiled when reading Roberta’s letters. We owe him that much right?” 

Micky also wanted to see some bodacious college girls but he was mostly doing it for Mike. Roberta made Mike happy and seeing her just once would do him wonders. Micky felt that deep in his chest.

“Ok, we’ll do it for Mike.” Also it was almost Christmas so it was a win win. “Pete this’ll be the best Christmas present Mike will ever have and all we need is gas money!”

“Yeah...we don’t have that.” Peter frowned.

Micky unitied Peter. “I’ll think of something Peter.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mike came back a few hours later, around early afternoon. “Fellas, I got us a gig!” He yelled loud enough for Micky to hear upstairs. Micky put down his Captain America comic and slid down the banister. “Groovy Mike, where at?” He said upon landing downstairs.

Peter emerged from his and Davy’s room holding what looked like a Shazam comic. Sometimes they would swap but Micky was an avid Marvel fan while Peter was more into DC. 

“Is Davy here?” Mike asked. Peter shook his head, “He’s with Mary still.”

“I guess I’ll just have to make the announcement twice then. We got a gig at an all girls club.”

“A girl’s club? Do we have to dress up as girls then?” Micky asked and Peter shared his confusion. 

“No they’re fine with us as is cause we’re longhaired weirdos.”

“That makes sense.” Micky and Peter said in unison.

“So when is it?”

“They couldn’t book anyone else, last minute cancel, so it’s tonight.”

“Tonight!?” Micky said slapping both of his cheeks. 

“Yeah I know it’s a bit of a time crunch, but we can do it! Plus we need the money for the rent this month.”

Micky worked with Mike to compile their set list a few from their Album and some Mike had pitched to them, _She_ and _Hold on Girl._

Perfect for girls, all girls, they supposed. Davy came back a little while later and Peter filled him in on their gig. Micky could see Davy’s eyes brighten, and he rushed from the bandstand.

“Hold on Casanova, aren’t you still with Mary?” Micky asked before he could get an ideas.

The light in Davy’s eyes dimmed. “Of course I am. I’m happy we got a gig is all!” 

“Sure.” Micky said with a grin. Sometimes Micky wondered if Davy wanted long term relationships or did the girls. They’d been going out for a few weeks now, a record, someone should write that down.

“I’ve been keeping track. Eighteen days so far.” Peter appeared with a pencil behind his ear and a notepad. “Wait how did you–.” Micky started. Peter turned to a random location, “for the readers to keep track of time.” Micky tried to look in that direction too but it hurt his neck, there was nothing to see.

“What?” Mike said from the bandstand. 

“That’s a little over a fortnight.” Davy said. 

“What?” Micky parroted Mike.

“I don’t know what forts have to do with days.” Peter said biting his pencil and scratching his head. Davy sighed, “Two weeks, it means two weeks.”

And thus the Monkees added yet another word to their “Davy’s Timey-Wimey Phrases” dictionary. 

They added _Look Out_ as the fifth song in their set and switched _I don’t think you know me”_ as the last.

Micky and Mike were stuck on who should sing the lead to _“I don’t think you know me.”_

“Well how about I sing lead?” Peter suggested as the two bickering Monkees whipped their heads in his direction. 

“But you–.” Micky started. “Shotgun I....” Mike let the words die on his tongue. Peter cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Well there’s a reason…” Micky tried again, but his mouth failed him. 

“Come on guys, I don’t ever get a chance to sing.” Peter begged. “Yeah! I for one think Peter would sound great! We’ve practiced!” Davy said putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

Micky smiled, “You know what Pete, I’ll sing backup vocals for you too.” Mike, still looked weary. Davy raised an eyebrow. 

“Mike?”

“Well...I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Peter beamed and that was all it took for Micky to agree this was the right choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four Monkees practiced strenuously and relentlessly until later that night when they donned their red double breasted button down shirts and gray pants.

Mike led the quad into the floray of neon lights, and pastel swirls. It was dimly lit and bodies were packing into the place.

“The Monkees! You’ve made it!” A blonde haired woman with a pink streak in her hair, blue lipstick, a blue tie dye crop top and bell bottom jeans greeted them. 

“Hello Stella where do you want us to set up?”Mike asked her.

“The stage is a little over to the left. We got plenty of outlets for your instruments, boys. We usually start the acts in around 15 minutes.” Mike nodded and the others took their instruments to the stage.

“Hi Stella, I’m the drummer, Micky. Do you like impressions?”

“Oh I’m not really–.”

“I can do physical comedy too.” Micky said picking up a few glasses, “I used to be a great juggler, was in the circus for a bit as a little kid.” Micky threw them up and attempted to catch them but they landed on the ground with a loud _CRASH!_ The missed glasses shattered into a million tiny pieces on the floor.

Micky blushed to the tips of his ears, “Guess I’m a little rusty.” He gave a nervous smile. Stella smiled with him. 

“You’re cleaning that up. I’ll take your Tom Tom.” Micky handed over the drum and asked the woman at the bar to hand him a broom and dust pan. He swept up the broken shards.

Stella soon returned as he was finishing up sweeping. “You use that act on all the girls?” 

Micky scratched behind his neck. “No, don’t have too. I’m usually quite the Casanova. They see these guns, the girls come running.” He said flexing his muscles with a purposefully arrogant grin. Then he laughed and so did she. “I wish.” He added rolling his eyes and dropping his arms. 

“Well you’re doing pretty well so far.” Then she stepped closer to him, sliding her hand down his back pocket. “Call me, if you wanna do something _interesting.”_ She said slowly dragging her fingers from his pocket, having left a slip of paper in its place. Micky felt an electric current go up his spine. 

“ _Expect_ a call from me, doll.” He breathed into her neck.

“Micky?” He heard a call from Mike at the stage.

Micky snapped up and stepped back, “Sorry Mike, got a little hung up! I’ll go get the rest of my kit.”

Stella walked away, “See you on stage!” Mike joined Micky to help unload the rest of his kit.

“I see you’re back in the game.” He smiled.

Micky chuckled, “We can’t let Davy get all the action can we?”

“I guess not.” Mike said in a tone that sounded distant. 

Micky wondered how Mike would make this long distance thing with Roberta work. He could imagine the tension just wounding up so tight it was ready to burst. He just had to bring her to Mike, it was what they both needed. He was sure of it.

Micky and Mike took a few more trips to unload all of Micky’s drum kit. Micky adjusted his stool, tested his pedal, and tuned his drums.

Mike addressed the crowd as per usual, Davy flashed a smile into the crowd, and Micky expected squealing from all the girls in the audience but only heard a small handful. When Peter finished up the last song of their set, the girls went wild with applause and one brunette pulled another in for a kiss. Micky gasped as he saw more of them doing it. Music filled the Girls Club as someone turned on the jukebox. Everything went back the way it was before as girls danced along to The Beach Boys _Surfin USA._ Micky swiveled around to face Mike mouth still agape. Mike didn’t meet his eyes. Peter smiled at the crowd as they packed up and Davy looked relieved.

“This is a–.” One look at Mike’s panicked face, told him that he shouldn’t say anything else.

And Micky had more questions buzzing in his head when they got back to the Pad. He looked at Mike who grabbed Davy and ran into his and Peter’s room before he could open his mouth. “Just for tonight, ok Micky?” Mike said through the door. “Ok Mike, but you can’t hide _forever.”_ Micky said, palms flat against the door, a chuckle from the base of his throat. “I’ll find _you.”_

Then Micky stepped back. There was a brief pause before Micky broke out in a booming laugh. “Holy shit Mick, you scared me and Davy!” 

“Was I that good? You think I could be a serial killer in a movie?” He could hear them laughing through the door. 

“I wouldn’t be able to take you seriously as yourself Micky, your face is too round, and soft. You don’t look scary mate.” Davy said. 

Later that night, Peter relocated upstairs. Micky asked Peter about his thoughts on the Girls Club. “So you’re just ok with...that?” “Well yeah Micky, they gave us a gig.” Peter said as Micky turned to look out the window of their room. 

Micky sighed. _Am I crazy? Something’s off right? I mean a queer club, w-what? How did Mike find it? Isn’t that unnatural?_

_What did Stella mean by interesting?!?_

Micky was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t feel the dip on the side of his bed. He almost jumped out of bed feeling Peter’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Micky, does this bother you?” Micky looked at Peter. Micky felt something tight in his chest. It hurt, to breathe. “Yes.” 

“Should it though?”

“Peter, what? Of course! T-they’re odd! They’re different! They mess with the natural order of things.” 

“I was thinking about that. And Micky hear me out, ...So do we.” Micky jumped from the bed, fear in his eyes, trying to put as much space as he could between them. “Y-you’re–.” 

“No I’m not Micky. I’m just saying, we’re long haired weirdos.” Peter said, giving him a wide smile. 

Micky did not understand. But said he did, just so Peter would stop smiling at him. It was making him uncomfortable.

In his dream, he could only see the smile surrounded by darkness, mocking him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Criticism welcome.


	12. Micky Jumps The Gun

Davy thought he had a pretty good thing going with Mary. He’d broken his record and there didn’t seem to be any problems. Davy for the first time could do that envisioning for the future thing couples tended to do.

For their one month anniversary Davy thought dinner under the stars and a serenade of his own musical talents would be enough. He even picked up a side job as a janitor at the Vincent Van Go Go to earn a little extra while their gigs were sparse. He used the money to buy food, utensils and a picnic basket for them to store the food in.

Davy had the picnic set all packed and ready to be spread outside on the beach. The guys were spread out around the Pad. Micky was in the kitchen making a sandwich, Peter was out on the deck reading a book and Mike was in his room, doing who knows what. The doorbell rang and Davy pulled out his stool to see Mary outside.

Davy quickly stepped down and opened the door. “Mary!” He said, elated to see her. 

Mary couldn’t meet his eyes. Her lips were pulled taunt. “Davy–.”

“Wait a second! I’ve gotta get the basket.” He said pulling her in.

“Take a seat!” He continued as he went to get the basket and the blanket. When he got them, he ran to the door, seeing Mary hadn't taken a seat; he held open the door for her. 

“Davy.” She said quietly. “I-I’m breaking up with you.” 

Davy stared at her before breaking out into a small chuckle. “You must be joking!” Mary furrowed her eyebrows.

“I’m not!” She pursed her cherry red lips.

Davy kept his eyes on her, abruptly stopping his laughter once he saw she was indeed not joking. “B-but Mary—.” 

Mary frowned, “Davy I-I just don’t think this is going to work out.” Davy shut the door. 

Micky met Davy’s eyes and quickly said, “I’ll join Peter on the deck! Oh Peter!” He called running outside grabbing his sandwich. Davy dropped the basket, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Why? We’ve been alright so far, did I do something to upset you?” 

Mary looked Davy straight in the eyes again. “You're too short.” And in that moment the color drained from Davy’s vision. 

All he could see was black, white and shades of grey. “What? I-I can’t change that.” Mary stepped towards him, and he could see they were the same height. Her red lipstick now black. “Exactly.” She said walking past him and out the door.

Davy dropped to his knees, holding the checkered white and grey blanket to his chest. His hands were shaking and his chest felt tight. 

Davy heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to find Mike staring at him, a look of pity on his face. His dark grey hat perched on his head. “Sorry Tiny. I know you thought she’d be the one.” He said having squatted next to his crumpled form clutching tightly to the blanket. 

Davy hadn’t gotten this sad over a girl since that time Ludlow married the princess he’d helped him win over. And that was last year. But he’d had a few dates with her doppelgänger so it wasn’t all bad.

But Davy indeed thought Mary was the one, she’d broken his one week streak. That must’ve meant something right? Mike clicked his teeth. “Well you’ll have to keep searching for your soulmate.” 

“But Mike I’m tired.” Davy found himself saying. After so many dates over the three years they’d been a band, Davy was now on the edge of giving up. He was worn out from love.

Mike was now face to face with him, having laid on his side and tucked his knees under his chest into the fetal position. Davy was unsure why he was doing it, but it did make Mike look small like a child. 

“Davy you’re not one to give up when things get hard.” 

“Well it’s a good time as any to start.” Davy said looking away from his black eyes.

“I’ve heard of people working on themselves when they tire of dating. You wanna focus on yourself for a bit instead?” 

“Focus on me self? I guess I don’t do much besides go on dates.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Davy sat up and patted Mike on the shoulder, “Thanks Mike.” 

Mike smiled. “Anytime Tiny.” Davy stood up and held out his hand to help Mike up. 

“Hey Mike, why’re you in that position anyway?” 

Mike got up, dusting himself off. “Oh I don’t know, it was kind of dumb now that I think about it.” Mike looked away, rubbing his neck. Davy stared at him crossing his arms. “C’mon it can’t be that bad.” Mike looked at him with a reluctant smile. “So you wouldn’t feel so small. I heard what Mary said and I thought, how could I make you feel big? Gotta make myself small.” 

Davy let out a chuckle, “Oh Mike.” And Mike joined him in laughing, color being restored in its vibrant light to his vision once again. 

_ Tap, Tap, Tap.  _ Micky and Peter were still out on the deck.  _ “ _ Can we come in? Is everything alright?” Micky asked. Mike nodded.

“Mary broke up with me.” He said once they were inside. 

“Aww that’s a real stone drag Davy. Some other girl will knock on your door in no time! I’m pretty sure they were waiting on Mary to break up with you, so they can snatch you up!” Micky said. 

“I’m gonna focus on me self for a bit Micky so no more dates.” 

Micky gasped, “No more dates! I can’t believe my ears!” In his melodramatic announcer voice. 

“You must be joking.” Peter said, sounding out the syllables.

“I'm not! Wait a minute are you trying to imitate me?”

“It is your line.” Peter said pointing to a piece of paper. 

“What lines?” Davy asked. 

“We can’t let this picnic go to waste, can we?” Micky said picking up the basket from off the floor.

And so they ate the sandwiches Davy had packed for himself and Mary. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davy found himself being pulled out of bed early the next morning by Micky. They had to be extra quiet as not to wake up Mike. It was a week before Christmas and they were going down to UCLA today to find Roberta.

Davy wiped the crust from his eyes and hopped in the shower. When he hopped out and changed clothes, Micky and Peter were waiting downstairs for him. Micky had a hand over Peter’s mouth and put a finger to his own lips. Davy noded and the trio made their way out the door. 

They got stuck a bit, trying to leave all at once. Davy pushed through first and pulled Micky and Peter through the door after.

Micky got in the driver's seat of the car and Davy got in the passenger seat, he’d be holding the map. 

Peter was in the back seat. “Do you guys think that maybe we’re overstepping our boundaries? Mike did say he and Roberta were fine with how everything was.”

“Peter, Peter, Peter boundaries? Since when did we have boundaries?” Micky said turning to look at him. They hadn’t started moving yet, the car wasn’t even on. Peter crossed his arms not budging on his stance.

“We’ve always respected each other’s wishes before. Why is this time any different?”

“Well we know this’ll be good for Mike, and Mike’s stubborn so we gotta do the legwork for him.” Davy tried to clarify, They were already in the car, best not to waste a trip.  _ Why hadn’t Peter objected before hand if he was so against us going? _

“But is it really best for Mike?”

“Would we ever do anything that wasn't?” Davy asked.

“Well we–.” Micky started but Davy cut him a look that said not to finish.

“No, I don't think we would. I just think, w-what if she isn’t n-nice, what if she doesn’t want to go?” 

“What if she is nice and does want to go?” Micky countered. It was odd that usually optimistic Peter was worried so much about the negatives.

“Peter don’t worry, everything will work out fine.” Davy reassured him.

“Ok.” Peter agreed quietly. 

Micky turned around and revved up the engine. “Alright boys we’re headed for campus.” And then Micky pulled away from the Pad.

Micky honked as they went almost nowhere. “Come on!” 

“Micky honking won’t get us out of a traffic jam. We can’t go anywhere.” He said after hearing the man honk the horn for the umpteenth time.

“I know. I just like honking! I’m usually on the receiving end of road rage. Now I get to feel the rage!” He said honking the horn again before bellowing out, “Move it or lose it bub!” Then he smiled at Davy.

Due to traffic, the ride lasted for almost two hours. Davy had gripped the map so tight he almost ripped it. He was this close to snapping Micky’s neck for honking excessively. When they finally arrived Davy almost cried tears of joy.

“Alright, so how are we gonna find this girl?” Micky asked quietly. 

“They’ve got to have records of the students living here. So let’s just go in and ask someone.” Peter said, leading the way into the tall building that looked like a chapel. It was gothic in style.

Micky and Davy exchanged looks of surprise before going in after him.

Davy felt so small within this particular building, like he could get lost in the shuffle. Students flowed in and out of its walls with great urgency. He stuck close to Micky who’d had a tendency to wonder just as much as Peter did, fearing being left alone. 

He felt a light pressure on his wrist and turned to Micky, opening his mouth to ask him what the big idea was with him holding his wrist. “Mustn’t lose my little duckling.” Micky adopted a den mother tone with a smile on his face before turning away from him. Davy closed his mouth, a small smile coming onto his face, blush warming his cheeks. He sometimes wondered how the others just  _ knew _ .

They followed Peter to a desk where a young woman with raven colored hair and a striped pastel long sleeved shirt sat at a large information desk. She had round circle frames perched on her nose and dark brown eyes.

“Hello, I'm Peter, and these are my friends: Micky and Davy. We’re looking for our friend Mike’s girlfriend.” 

The woman looked at him in confusion. “I don’t have that information sir. I could direct you to admissions, but how do I know you aren’t crooks!” Peter blinked as she leaned over the table to emphasize “crooks” and was now nose to nose with him. 

“M-miss w-we’re musicians.” He squeaked out. 

The young woman leaned back. “Oh yeah? Have I head of you?” 

Peter smiled, “I’m sure you have.” Peter turned to Micky, “Micky?” 

Davy also turned to Micky; Peter wanted him to sing. Micky’s cheeks turned scarlet as he now looked at the woman.

Davy nudged him with his elbow. It wasn’t like Micky to get nervous to perform. “H-Hey HEy We’Re The MonKEES!” He rasped out the beginning of their theme song, they’d made one just in case they’d gotten their own TV show.

Micky’s whole face was red. Peter and Davy looked at him with raised eyebrows. The woman at the counter frowned. “Never heard of ya! You can’t possibly be musicians if you don’t have any talent.” 

“Well I guess that means we should go fellas.” Peter spout out, turning toward them.

“Hold on a minute,” Davy pushed his way to stand in front of the counter. “Excuse me miss, but we do have talent, we’re having a rough day is all. We really need to see Roberta for our friend Mike. C’mon ‘s almost Christmas, won’t ya help us poor boys in need.” Davy put on the most miserable look he could muster. Peter and Micky joined him.

“Oh alright! Only because it’s almost Christmas. Here is the admission’s office address.” She said scribbling down the directions on a piece of paper. 

Davy took it from her gratefully. “Thank you.” He said with a smile. Davy led the way out of the building, more confident because they had a sense of direction.

“What was that about Micky?” Peter asked. 

Micky let out a nervous chuckle, “I kind of screamed my throat raw with all of the road rage.” 

“You would.” Peter said. 

Then suddenly he felt a chill go up his spine. He stopped in the middle of the pathway, going across the courtyard.

Peter and by extension Micky, ran right into him. “Davy?” Peter asked.

It was as if someone was following them, and not just any someone, a  _ girl. _

“A girl is following us.” Davy stated simply. “How do you know that?!” Peter asked in surprise, and was only more alarmed when Micky did not share his panic. “That explains it.” Micky nodded. 

Peter looked between the two of them, confused. “H-how?” Micky rested his arm on Peter’s shoulder. “Just roll with it babe. It makes it easier.” Peter nodded. Peter’s panic melted off of his face as he again returned to his mild mannered attitude.

“You can stop hidin’ now.” Davy called out and sure enough a girl popped out of a bush. She had blonde hair, green eyes, and a gleam of sweat on her face. Leaves were in her hair

She approached them cautiously. “D-Davy Jones? Micky Dolenz? Peter Tork?!” She blinked her eyes as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Davy met Peter and Micky’s eyes, sharing equal confusion. 

“Roberta?” They asked tentatively. The girl was silent, mouth open, before she gulped, and wet her lips.

“Y-Yes?” 

The tense atmosphere faded. Davy smiled as the three of them enveloped her in a group hug. “Yay! We found you!” They exclaimed in joy, hopping up and down. “I-I-uh, uh!” She sputtered out sounds.

The three Monkees stepped back to see the completely red faced girl. “Sorry ‘bout that. S’ just we traveled all this way so you could see Mike. And we weren’t exactly sure where you’d be. S’ a relief really.” Davy apologized. 

“Mike? Micheal Nesmith?! H-he wants to see me?!” Roberta said in shock. Davy let out a chuckle. Micky stepped forward and put an arm around her shoulders. 

“Mike isn’t one for endearments huh?” Roberta was looking at Micky, face still colored red.

“Uh…”

“Well technically it’s a surprise.” Peter added.

“So Roberta, you got a few days you could spare to come stay with us?” Davy asked her. “M-me? C-come s-stay with y-y-you? At y-your h-house?” The girl was physically shaking, more sweat gleamed on her brow, her ears were colored pink. 

“Whoa, is this about your strict dad?” Micky said turning to her. “Cause if so we have a back up plan for that.”

“N-no I-I’m fine! J-just l-le–.” She pauses to take a deep breath. “Let me get m-my clothes.” Micky took a step back and beamed. “Alright! We’ll be here when you get back!”

Roberta ran off into the opposite direction, presumably towards her dorm. 

Micky turned towards them. “Hmm that was easier than expected.”

“She seemed nice too, see you had nothing to worry about Peter.” Davy added. 

“Yeah I guess so.” Peter bit his lip.

When she returned a short while later with a packed duffle bag, the Monkees led her to the MonkeeMobile.

  
  


“The MonkeeMobile!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide in amiration. She felt the leather seats and sniffed the air once she was in the backseat with Davy. Peter wanted shotgun this time. “This is so groovy! I can’t believe I’m in the MonkeeMobile w-with the Monkees!” She squealed.

_ Mike sure knew how to pick em.  _ Davy was surprised Mike would go for a girl as sporadic as Roberta.  _ It’s probably just the excitement of meeting your boyfriend and his band for the first time.  _

“So Roberta how did you and Mike start writing letters to each other?” Davy asked. 

“I-I um did Mike not tell you?” She asked her fingers twitching in her lap. 

“Mike’s a secretive Sally, so we barely get a peep out of him about anything, let alone his girlfriend.” Micky said.

“U-uh um well there was an ad in the paper. You know, one of those help hotlines and I think Mike was one of the people on the lines giving advice. We talked, I told him about my strict dad, and one thing led to the next and we exchanged mailing addresses.” She said taking a gulp of air, and looking at her hands before giving Davy a smile.

“Mike worked for another hotline?” Davy asked. “I know we all had a brief stint at that telephone company, but after that girl faked suicide to get a part, Mike swore it off as a part time job ever again.” He continued. 

“Yeah I thought he did too.” Peter said. 

“Well he has been making some hushed phone calls lately.” Micky chipped in. 

Roberta’s cheeks were red again. “It’s true. Mike wouldn’t be happy to hear you fellas calling me a liar.” 

“We didn’t say that Roberta. Mike doesn’t tell us most things; it’s news to us.” Peter tried to smooth things over.

The ride was filled with light chatter as Roberta told them about herself. She told them she was an Environmental Studies major, and hopped to stop pollution and save the trees. She had participated in 3 protests this year alone. She had just turned 21 in the fall. She’d listened to their album over 30 times. They were surprised, but they weren’t too shocked; Mike had probably encouraged her to give it a listen. 

~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the Pad. Micky had the keys to open the door. He led the way up the steps. “One of us could crash on the couch and you could take the bed. Or do you and Mike want to share a bed?” Micky asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Roberta’s face became red again. “Knock it off.” Davy said elbowing him in the ribs. “What? They haven’t seen each other ever, that’s gotta be–.” He cut himself off upon stepping into their threshold.

There on the couch was an angry Mike Nesmith.

“Surprise?” Micky said with Davy, Peter and Roberta trailing behind him. 

Something told Davy, Micky forgot to leave the note. But that look of anger turned into shock once he saw Roberta. 

Davy did not see any stars in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Criticism Welcome.


	13. Mike Meets His Admirer

Peter wasn’t all that familiar with relationships like Davy was but he could tell something was off. Roberta had pushed past Davy and Micky who were in front of her when she saw Mike. Peter was last, having offered to carry her duffel bag into the Pad. 

She ran up to Mike and threw her arms around his neck, she’d stood on her tip-toes to give Mike a kiss on the cheek. Mike was shocked, surprised and even a little repulsed if Peter was being honest. “Oh Mike, I’m so glad we’re finally getting to meet in person!” Roberta’s face was red. She quickly stepped away from him. Mike blinked his eyes, roaming over each Monkee’s face before they were back on Roberta. 

“Y-Yeah me too…” he trailed off offering a weary smile.

“Where am I gonna s-sleep?” Roberta asked with a pucker of her lips.

“In me and Mike’s room! I’ll crash on the couch so you two love birds can be together.” Micky said with a wide smile that made his eyes squint. Mike’s eyes widened as he took in Roberta’s duffle bag in his arms. “Peter show the lady to her room.” Micky waved Peter off as though he were a butler.

“Come on Roberta, we’re going upstairs.” Peter said leading the way to Mike and Micky’s room. 

Peter looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, put it anywhere.” Peter placed the bag on the floor by Micky’s bed. Roberta flopped back onto Micky’s bed, “Ahhh. This is niiicce.” She turned her head and sniffed into Micky’s pillow. Peter’s eyebrows shot up towards his hair. She grabbed his blankets and pulled them towards her chest. “This smells so–.” Peter cleared his throat.

Roberta’s eyes opened and darted towards Peter. Her cheeks were colored a rosy pink. “I-I thought you’d left.” 

“I didn’t know you wanted me to. I thought maybe you’d want to come back down with the rest of us.” 

“O-oh yes I’ll be down in a bit. You go ahead, I want to get settled.” She said getting up and kneeling down towards her duffle bag.

“Ok.” Peter said heading out and going downstairs.

Mike and Micky were face to face. They looked up at Peter when he reached the bottom of the steps. Micky stepped back. “I thought you’d be happy that we brought your girlfriend to spend time with you.”

“Micky I’m more upset you didn’t respect my wishes that we were ok with being long distance! You never leave well enough alone do you?” Micky closed his mouth. He turned swiftly and stalked towards the door. 

“I wouldn’t have to if everything wasn’t a secret.” Micky slammed the door with so much force the paintings they had on the back wall rattled.

Peter blinked and Davy’s mouth turned into a deep set frown. “You know Mike, Micky and I were just trying to do somethin’ special for you. We fuck up a lot you know.” Mike sighed.

“I appreciate what you guys were trying to do. I just like my privacy, is there a law against that?” 

“Well no. But you know Micky, he shares everything. Spend time with Roberta while she’s here at least. Ok Mike?”

“Alright Tiny.”

“I’ll go try to calm Micky down.” Davy said walking out the door in the direction Micky went.

Mike looked at Peter finally, worry in his eyes. “You gonna chew me out too?” 

Peter shook his head, “I had a feeling you wouldn’t like it.” Mike let out a loud exhale. Peter walked over to Mike resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s not the real Roberta, is she?” Peter whispered. 

Mike’s eyes widened before he let out a chuckle, “Of course, she  _ isn’t _ .” 

Peter felt a chill go down his spine as Mike looked at him straight in his eyes. “But then why don’t we–.” Mike shook his head. He covered Peter’s mouth with his hand.

“Peter we’re going to keep up appearances until she leaves. No one has to know.”  _ But why?  _ “Ok.” Peter said relenting. Mike uncovered his mouth.

“What was all the commotion?” Roberta asked from the top of the steps.

“Just a small quarrel between friends. So Roberta how long are you staying?” Mike asked, changing the subject.

Roberta trotted down the steps. “Just the weekend. Then I start my exams.”

“Oh really? What do you study?” Mike asked sitting on the arm of the couch. Roberta sat on the couch next to him.

Peter excused himself to the deck. He wanted to practice on his bass.  _ Why does Mike think it was a good idea to trust me with all these secrets?  _ Peter did not like keeping secrets from his friends, it caused more thinking to come up with the lies. 

Peter didn’t understand why Mike didn’t want Micky and Davy to know they essentially let a stranger into the Pad. She was an identity thief! _Are we in danger?_ _What if she has a gun in that duffle bag?_ He thought after strumming a few notes.

Peter felt himself getting more stressed as he thought about the situation at hand. Peter didn’t usually worry about much, their typical Monkee troubles were never long term and usually a group effort. 

Peter’s head was starting to hurt so he shook his head and practiced deep breathing to calm himself.

_ Inhale…Exhale...Inhale...Exhale. _

And with that Peter calmed down.  _ I’m starting to turn into Micky. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside, Peter could hear Mike strumming his guitar, as Roberta listened. Peter went back inside.

Roberta offered to cook dinner for them but Mike told her all they had were bologna meat, bread and spaghetti noodles. “I used to cook for my dad when my mom was at work so I know how to make something from anything.” Roberta said rolling up the sleeves of her green shirt. 

She’d put the noodles in the pot to boil and hummed a little toon. Peter sat on the couch next to Mike and looked at him. There was a faint smile on his face. “We don’t have many home cooked meals, do we Peter?” 

Peter frowned, “I would call my meals home cooked.” 

Mike laughed, “Oh right, I forgot. Even if they’re not all that good they’re home cooked.”

“That’s why you need a girl who can do that for you!” Roberta said turning toward them with a wink. Peter smiled,  _ she seemed nice. _

Micky and Davy came in a little later. “Mmmm! Something smells good!” Micky said as Roberta started frying up some bologna. Micky rushed over into the kitchen and sniffed the air. “What’s this?” He said over her shoulder, referring to the pot of noodles. Roberta gasped dropping her spatula. “Ooops you dropped your spatula.” Micky said bending over to get it. Roberta faced him cheeks red, hands curled in front of her. Micky smiled handing it back to her. 

“S-spaghetti!” She squeaked. 

“Spaghetti?” Micky asked.

Davy plopped down between Mike and Peter. “Everything alright on you alls end?” Davy looked between the two of them. Peter nodded hurriedly. 

“Of course Tiny. Glad you got Micky calmed down.”

“I took Micky to the garage to work on the MonkeeMobile. It had an oil leak.” Mike furrowed his eyebrows. Peter didn’t even notice the oil stains on Micky’s shirt. Davy’s shirt on the other hand was clean...besides the few smudges he had on his face.

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” Micky said going upstairs to get a towel from his room.

“Don’t be long.” Davy called after him. 

“I won’t.” He called down. 

“How’d you manage to keep your shirt clean?” Mike asked. Davy smiled. 

“Took it off.” 

“Showoff.” Peter muttered under his breath. Mike rolled his eyes. 

A few moments later they heard the water running in the bathroom.

“I’m done, all yours Davy.” Micky said a few moments later. He came out drying his hair with a towel, another wrapped around his waist. 

“Alright.” Davy said hopping over the back of the couch and going in his and Peter’s room for a towel.

A loud  _ clang  _ sounded in the kitchen. Mike and Peter looked over to see Roberta scrambling with the pot of noodles, now on the floor. Mike rushed over being closer. “What happened?” He asked grabbing her arm to help her up.

Peter got up and rushed over, grabbing the fallen pot. Her bangs were over her eyes.

“I’m such a k-klutz.” Roberta said looking at Mike, purposefully avoiding looking in their direction. 

Mike gripped her arms, “S’ ok. At least you poured the noodles into the strainer.” 

Mike smiled warmly at her. “Y-Yeah no food wasted.” She agreed. Micky had scrambled to the floor to wipe up the water with his hair towel. 

“We could use a mop…” Peter trailed off going towards the closet to grab a mop. 

“I can’t leave you guys alone for a second.” Davy said taking in the scene, towels in the crook of his arm. “C’mon Micky get up! Peter has a mop, you’re bein’ quite indecent in the presence of a lady.” And it seemed to click in all of their heads exactly what happened. Mike immediately covered Roberta’s eyes. 

Micky immediately stands up and covers his chest. “I-I…” 

Davy turned towards a random location. “Always wear a robe to ensure extra coverage.” 

“Davy who are you–?” Peter started but Micky ran past him so fast that he knocked him over. Peter blinked as Micky made his way upstairs and shut the door before any of them could say another word.

Peter mopped up the water as Mike took over cooking the Spaghetti that they had no pasta sauce for, so he just used butter. Roberta sat at the table twiddling her thumbs, looking like a scolded child. Her cheeks were still colored pink. Peter noticed she was easily flustered. 

Davy and Micky were dressed by the time everything was prepared. Peter ended up helping Mike serve their spaghetti and baloney meal to give Roberta a chance to cool down. Plus she was their guest, it would only be right to serve her.

“So...Mike, what do you have planned for us while I’m here?” Roberta brought up while the were all seated. Mike had a spoonful of noodles in his mouth. He swallowed them in a big gulp, “Uh well…” 

“Mike’s been dying to see, ‘Hello Dolly!’ at the cinema and I thought, what better way to spend the afternoon with his girl?” Micky cut in.

“Oh I’ve heard about that one! It seems like a real good time!” Roberta asked, her eyes brightening. 

“Hello Dolly?’ Mick, musicals aren’t really my bag.”

“I already bought the tickets.” Micky said eating a piece of baloney. 

“Looks like we’re going to see ‘Hello Dolly’, Roberta. When is the showing?” 

“Tomorrow 2:15.” 

“Oh I can't wait to see it with you Mike!” Roberta smiled. 

Peter was weary letting Roberta sleep with Mike alone.  _ She won’t murder him right?  _ Davy was sleeping soundly as Peter was wide awake staring at the ceiling.  _ Was Roberta even her real name?  _ That thought made his blood freeze cold. They hadn’t asked for her information from Mike to verify, just scooped her up from campus and brought her here. And she’d fit herself in comfortably with them like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

If Roberta was not the real Roberta then what did she want with them and who was the real Roberta?

~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Peter, Micky and Davy were left at the Pad while Mike and Roberta watched  _ Hello Dolly. _

If Peter was going to find the real Roberta, he would need some help and he knew just who he’d ask. Peter waited while the phone rang several times before he heard a  _ click.  _

_ “ _ Chimp’s residence, who is this?” He heard Randy say. It was a bit jarring to hear his own voice ask him a question. 

“Uh… Oh! Peter! Peter Tork!” He said and he heard a bit of a sigh on the other line. “Yeah? What did you need?” 

“Oh! Um can I talk to Robert? It’s important.” He said, with a nod although Randy couldn’t see him. 

“Alright, let me get him.” And he could hear him yell for Robert to come to the phone. 

“What do you want?” He asked, not pleased with him in the slightest.

“I need your help. It’s important.” 

“And you think I’d want to help you?” He scoffed. 

“Please Robert! It’s about Mike, I think he’s in trouble. Could you meet me at the park?” Peter heard him suck in a breath.

“Alright.” He hissed before he heard a  _ click _ and the line went dead. 

Peter hung up the phone and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Micky.

“Who was that big Pete, meeting someone special?” 

“No, it was just..um..a salesman.” 

“You didn’t agree to buy anything did you?” Peter shook his head. 

Peter grabbed his guitar and headed for the door. “I’m going to pick up some change from the park.” He said before Micky had a chance to ask and slammed the door shut.

Peter assumed the Chimp’s complex was farther from the park than the Pad because Bob wasn’t there when he arrived.  _ Technically _ he was there to pick up change. When Bob arrived a few moments later Peter had about 7 cents in his shoes and he’d played through two songs. Bob made a face taking in his bare feet and acoustic guitar. “I knew you Monkees were poor but I thought you could afford shoes at least.” 

Peter gave him a dimpled smile. “I’m using my shoes to collect money.” He said, wiggling his toes.

Bob frowned, crossing his arms, “So what’s going on?”

“Oh! I need your help to find Roberta!” He blurted out, panic resurfacing. 

“And why did you think I’d know that?” 

“Because, you and Mike are close friends.” Robert stepped up to him. 

“Liar!” He barked in his face. Peter shrunk back a bit but swallowed his fear.  _ Come on Pete, Mike needs you. _

“I know you two write letters to each other.” He said quietly.

Bob’s eyes widened before he backed away. He looked ready to flee but Peter grabbed his arm. “I don’t know why you two feel the need to hide your friendship but...please I-I need your help.” Peter felt a tightness in his chest and a stinging behind his eyes. “Let go of me! I can’t help you.” He harshly yanked his arm out of Peter’s grip. 

“I don’t have anyone else to turn to. T-this girl, she isn’t Roberta a-and she’s at the Pad. I’m s-so scared she’s going to hurt Mike, and I can’t tell Micky or Davy; I-I can’t do this alone...I can’t– Peter’s throat felt tight, like he couldn’t get the words out. His vision was blurry and his eyes stung even worse. Peter hung his head as the tears fell, sliding past his nose. He didn’t care that he was crying in front of Bob, this had been building up in him ever since he found out about the letters. 

“Hey now! What are you, a queer? Crying in front of me like that. Stop that!” He said as Peter wiped his eyes with his palms. “You’re really upset about this, huh? Well I’m gonna tell you right now, we ain’t gonna find Roberta.” That didn’t help Peter in the slightest, he felt more tears building in his eyes. “But I have a crazy idea that just might work.”

~~~~~

And so Peter found himself at a mall with Bob, picking out dresses and wigs. All of this seemed more trouble than finding Roberta would be but Peter didn’t have much time nor many options. Plus it wasn’t that far off from their typical Monkee shenanigans anyway. So he ran with it. “I think those shoes would go better.” He said to the Texan, who made a face before changing the shoes he had for the pair Peter suggested.

Peter helped Bob straighten his blonde wig. The Texan knew how to apply makeup himself, settling on blue eyeshadow and cherry red lipstick. He shaved his mustache and applied a bit of blush. “The other Chimps are out bowling again. I never liked it as much as they did.” Peter hummed in response, combing out the frizz in the wig. Peter could almost mistake Bob for a girl, he hopped the others could too. 

When they arrived at the Pad, Peter saw the MonkeeMobile out front, Mike and Roberta had returned. “Are you ready?” He asked Bob, placing his hand on the doorknob. 

Bob cleared his throat before pitching his voice higher. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

And with that Peter twisted the knob and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Criticism welcome.


	14. Peter Finds The Real Roberta

Mike watched the woman occupying Micky’s bed. She had claimed to be Roberta, who was just a generic set of traits he made up for a fictional girl. Did he happen to describe an actual woman whose name happened to be Roberta? Or did she respond to the name the other Monkees threw at her because she wanted to be close to them?

She was sound asleep, a faint mention of Micky’s name leaving her lips every once in a while. _Well apparently Micky’s her favorite Monkee._

Mike decided that he wouldn’t say anything if she didn’t and hopefully this would be a one time thing. They didn’t have many fans but he could believe the few they did have would be crazy enough to steal someone else’s identity if it meant spending time with them.

He hoped she wouldn’t do anything harmful to them. 

She whined in her sleep, Mike furrowed his eyebrows. _The poor girl must be having a nightmare._ She moved around a bit before she rose up with a startled gasp. Roberta held a hand over her heart, exhaling before making eye contact with Mike. Mike quickly shut his eyes, to fake being asleep. “You know don’t you?” She whispered. Mike did not respond.

“Please don’t tell.” She whispered, frantic and anxious. “I-I mean...oh I sound like a criminal! You could send me on my way tomorrow. Please, just don’t have me arrested.” Mike could feel Roberta boring holes into his supposed sleep form. 

“I won’t.” Was his only reply after a few silent moments. 

“Really? Thank you.” She whispered louder. 

“You can stay the weekend too.”

“Groovy! You’re really letting me stay?” 

“Just don’t tell the others and don’t ever come back no matter how hard Micky or Davy might beg ya. If ya do, I’ll call the cops, understand?” 

“Yeah, no problem! It’s been a real gas so far. So, I don’t wanna be in your bad graces Mike.”

Mike was then able to sleep peacefully.

~~~~~~

_Hello Dolly_ wasn’t that bad, Roberta even laughed at the comments he made throughout the movie. He was quiet enough for only her to hear, and her laughter wasn’t loud.

“I didn’t know you were so funny Mike, I thought that was reserved for Micky.” She said on the drive back to the Pad. 

Mike shrugged, “Its not an everyday thing. I’m more into observational humor.” He said and Roberta smiled. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, is that girl the guys think I am, is she real pretty?” She asked and Mike blanched. “W-well–.” 

“Oh! Oh I’m sorry that was real stupid of me to ask! She must be if she’s going out with thee Mike Nesmith! I’m just curious and maybe a little jealous, but what does she look like?”

“She looks like you.” 

“Now I’m imagining my doppelgänger, the one that gets to date you all the time and not just one weekend.” She squeezed her eyes shut and pouted. Mike shook his head in amusement. “I hope she isn’t mad at me. But if she were me, she would’ve done the same thing! How many chances do you get to spend a whole weekend with the Monkees?”

“She doesn’t know and I plan to keep it that way.” Mike said glancing at her before looking back at the road.

Roberta makes a zipped up motion across her lips, and they fall into silence.

After a few moments Mike speaks up again, “If you don’t mind me asking, is Roberta your real name?”

“Nope, Helen Smith. And no I’m not related to Robert Smith, the member of the Chimps. You wouldn’t believe how many times I get asked that!” Rober–Helen then continued to talk about her friends and how they were big fans of the Chimpanzees. She showed a dislike for Chimps fans and said she didn’t understand why people liked their music so much. 

“Have you guys run into the Chimps?” Helen asked as they returned to the Pad.

“Yeah we’ve met. I wouldn’t count the experience as all the way pleasant.” He said opening the door. 

Micky jumped up from the couch. “Hey you crazy kids! How was the movie? Did you two even watch it?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Mike sighed, “Yes Micky we did watch it. And even if we didn’t that’s none of your business.” Helen’s cheeks were dusted red. Micky squinted his eyes, lips still quirked in a smirk. “Sure you did.” 

“I had so much fun! Did you know Mike was so sarcastic? He had me in stitches!” Helen brought up. 

“Sarcasm is Mike’s second language, babe.” Davy said from the kitchen.

~~~~~~~

Helen took one of Davy’s magazines and circled the swimsuit styles she was looking to buy. She was draped across Mike’s lap and had her head resting on the arm of the couch. Mike was scribbling the lyrics of a new song.

And then the door opened to Peter and a heavily made up woman with long flowing blonde hair and a satin emerald green dress that flowed to the floor. The upper part of the dress was long sleeved lace with sequin breading across the bust and arms. She had blue eyeshadow, smooth creamy white skin, cherry red lips, dark and deeply rich chocolate brown eyes.

Mike felt his words catch in his throat as he sat there stunned. _Who is this beautiful woman Peter brought to the Pad?_ Mike did not catch the apologetic look on Peter’s face. “I found the real Roberta and this girl is an imposter!” Peter said pointing at Helen who dropped the magazine onto her face. 

“U-uh–.” Micky slid down the banister, and Davy emerged from his and Peter’s shared room.

“What’s this about an imposter?” Davy asked, looking between the mystery woman and Helen. 

“S-she’s not Roberta! She’s been posing as her this whole time!” Peter said gesturing to Helen as Micky and Davy shared identical looks of confusion. Helen looked at Mike as if to ask if she should lie or tell the truth. Mike was still stunned, catching the beautiful woman’s eyes, sparkling like diamonds.

“I-I’m not! I’m Roberta! You guys found me, remember? You guys know what Mike’s girlfriend looks like!” Helen said to Micky and Davy.

“Yeah she fits the description Mike told me,” Davy confirmed. 

Micky spoke up then,“Mike’s been hanging out with her all day, Pete. Why would he hang out with a stranger?” 

“We know you’re a bit impressionable Pete. Your friend is welcome to stay for dinner if she wants.” Davy suggested with a smile. 

Peter frowned, “B-but I’m telling the truth. Tell them Mike. Mike?”

Mike shook his head, he hadn’t been paying attention, all he heard was dinner. _If the pretty lady wanted to eat dinner with them she could._ “Y-yeah she could stay for dinner. How about I fix something ok?” He said getting up and going to the kitchen to fix anything out of the stuff they had in the cupboards. They had an old can of green beans and some cans of tuna fish. In the ice box they had mayonnaise. Mike could make something out of that. 

Peter frowned, turning to the woman. “I tried. Would you like to stay for dinner anyway?” Mike did not hear a response but assumed she said yes based on Peter’s response. “Alright then, have a seat on the couch. I’m going to lie down.” 

“Hey Peter before you do that, Davy and I would like to talk to you, _upstairs.”_

“Alright but make it quick, I’m tired.” Mike could hear the other Monkees thundering footsteps before the door to Micky and Mike’s room shut. Mike was stirring the green beans when he heard the mystery woman clear her throat.

“Micheal!” He heard her say in this weird tone of voice. _How does she know–._

“What in the hell is going on?” She asked closer to him. Mike turned, eyes squinted and brows furrowed. She was looking dead at him, face twisted into an ugly scowl. “Who is this girl?” She asked. Mike felt his blood freeze cold, her accent dropped. 

“R-Robert?” He asked, trying to get his head around the musician dressed in drag.

“Duh! You dumbass musician! Now tell me what all this is about. Your blond friend came crying to me about some stranger in your house posing to be your _girlfriend.”_

 _“_ The guys, you know they do things without me knowing. They took my description literally, and brought a girl home. I didn’t want them to be suspicious so I tried to keep everything under control at least for the weekend. I guess Pete got a little freaked out.” 

“He knows?” 

“No! Well not exactly. He found out about the letters but he doesn’t really know what all this is about.” 

“Nesmith you’re terrible at keeping secrets from these guys.” Robert shook his head. “I can tell they’re all a bit suspicious now. I guess I wasn’t as convincing as I thought.” He frowned. 

Mike swallowed a lump in his throat. “N-no they’re not. T-the guys don’t–.”

Robert put a finger to his lips. “You’re going to have to tell them, unless you can come up with a good lie. But that drummer’s got that look in his eye that says he ain’t gonna make it easy for you once I leave.” 

“B-but Bob I don’t wanna lose the guys. They’re all the family I have.” 

“Um excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Helen by the way. I didn’t mean to get in the middle of this apparent love affair, I should just tell the other Monkees I’m an imposter.” Mike and Bob turned to Helen who was twiddling her thumbs. “A-And Mike I think the other Monkees would understand. They might not think it’s a gas but you’re still their band mate.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the other three Monkees returned, dinner was finished and Mike could tell there was tension in the air. No one made eye contact, no one spoke a word. Just the sound of forks scraping plates. 

“Well I think I’ll head in early.” Helen spoke up, making a motion to get up.

“Wait a moment Roberta, if that is your real name.” Davy said, tone sharp and serious. Helen sat back down. 

“I’ve been doing some observations. And everything about this whole scenario makes sense when put into perspective.”Davy continued. 

“Davy what are you on about?” Mike asked. 

“Ok Mike I’ll just say it, you’re a poof.” 

Five sets of eyes blinked at him before they all shared looks of confusion. “Oh for Pete’s sake, a homosexual!” Micky stared at him in horror and the others responded with audible gasps. 

“I-I’m not!” Mike quickly denied the accusation. 

“Well then who’s she, huh? That is definitely not a woman, and you’ve got stars in your eyes when you look at him!” Davy gestures to Bob. 

“And you! How low can you be to pretend to be someone else’s girlfriend?” Davy said leaning in close to Helen. “I’m furious that you lied to us but since you are technically not Mike’s girlfriend, would you be interested?” Helen blinked in shock. Davy shook his head before leaning back in his chair.

“And Peter,” Peter jumped at Davy’s tone. “We tell eachother everything! How could you not come to me with this? We could’ve handled it together, but you’d rather get our rivals involved!” Peter frowned, hanging his head. 

“And Micky why can’t you leave well enough alone? Maybe if you didn’t jump to conclusions so fucking fast we wouldn’t be in this whole mess! Maybe Mike would’ve told us!” Davy yelled at Micky who shrunk back in fear. 

Mike too was afraid at how frustrated Davy had become. Now that everything was sort of out in the open all they could do was reflect in the awkward and quiet atmosphere Davy’s yelling left them with. Davy eventually got up, he too felt awkward, “I’m uh going to bed. We’ll sort this out in the morning. Cheers.” They nodded at him in agreement.

Micky, Peter and Helen then retired to bed. Robert went home; Mike saw him out. “Whooo that short one is a fireball ain’t he? You’ll be ok Nesmith, if not you can always crash with us.”

“Yeah, Davy is usually feisty, but not with us. I hope I don’t have to take you up on the offer but thanks anyway. G’night.” Bob leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Mike blinked. 

“Night.” He said walking to the familiar black Pontiac before getting in.

Mike watched him go before heading back inside the Pad. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Peter with a glass of water in his hand. “Peter?!” 

Peter gave him a small smile. “He’s real sweet on you Mike, It's nice you bring that out of him.”

“I-I uh-.” Mike felt blush on his cheeks before he shook his head, 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

“Oh! I was! Just got a little thirsty. Anyway, good night Micheal.” Peter said before disappearing into his and Davy’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Criticism Welcome.


	15. Davy Heads A Monkee Meeting

Micky took Helen back to UCLA to start her exams. Helen had come clean to all the Monkees about pretending to be Mike’s girlfriend. She had no intention to harm them and was such a huge fan. She declined Davy’s offer to go steady, saying she had a crush on Micky instead. Micky, happy to oblige, exchanged numbers with Helen before she got out of the car. “Keep in touch, babe.”

“Definitely!” She said before he drove away.

When he got back Mike and Peter were seated on the couch. Davy was standing in front of a chalkboard. “Uh did I miss something?” Micky said, gesturing to their set up. 

“No the chalkboard is to break up any arguments.” 

Micky sat next to Peter, “I don’t think there’s much to argue about. Except how much of a jerk you were at dinner.” 

“I think Davy said what we were all thinking, albeit in much more blunt terms than I would’ve liked, but they still should’ve been said.” Peter said. 

“Oh really? So Davy’s a martyr? He was just as guilty as we were in bringing Helen to the Pad, I don’t think he has a right to tell me anything.” 

“Micky, you don’t think you were a bit unfair, making assumptions about Mike?” 

“I was right, wasn’t I? So what does it matter?”

“But you can’t just--” Peter stopped upon hearing an ear splitting _squeeeakkk_ from the chalkboard. Peter, Micky and Mike covered their ears.

“Gahh, Davy!” Micky said, the squeak ringing in his ears. He had the urge to claw at the skin on his cheeks. Anything for the pain.

“Hush now, I want Mike to tell us what he needs to tell us.” Davy said after having clawed the chalkboard with those manicured nails of his. Micky joined Peter in looking at their lanky band mate. Mike looked back at them, before heaving out a loud sigh. 

“I was hoping it didn’t have to come to this. But I’m not gay–.”

“You can’t pull one over on us Mike! You might’ve fooled me once but you can’t fool me twice!” Micky exclaimed, getting up from the couch to pace. “I mean seriously! Can you believe it? I was right about something for once!” He beamed. 

Mike looked exasperated. “Would you let me finish? It’s hard enough already with you guys staring me down.” 

“Sorry.” Micky pouted.

“As I was saying, I-I...I-I’m bisexual.”

The other three Monkees gasped dramatically. Micky felt a sweeping sensation of sickness. He felt a weakness in his knees before he lost his footing. Davy scrambled to catch him. “Micky?!” His head was pounding before the sickness cleared. Micky felt Davy helping him to a standing position. 

“I’ll just get my things together. I’ll be out by Tomorrow.” Mike said getting up.

“W-wait!” Peter said grabbing onto Mike’s arm. 

“What?” Mike snapped at him.

“Y-you don’t have to leave! Please Mike!”

“I think Mike’s already found his people Pete.” Micky said, a bit upset that Mike was ready to leave after discovering his sexuality. _Maybe he’s going to live with his rich boyfriend. What does he need to stay with us for, we’ve got nothing to offer._ Mike looked at him, a flash of hurt in his eyes, before it was replaced with anger. He pulled his arm away from Peter’s grip. 

“You’re leaving us, just like that!” Davy snapped.

“I’ve got no choice! You guys don’t want me here!” 

“What? When did we ever say that?” Davy asked and all three Monkees were staring at him again. Mike blinked, glancing at each of their faces, before a small smile formed on his face.

“You didn’t. I thought y’all were going to throw me out, because I like guys too. I thought you’d be disgusted with me.” 

Micky was a little disgusted.

“To be honest I’m a little disgusted.” Davy said. _Is Davy in my head or something?_

“You’ve gotta admit though Mike, it is pretty abnormal, couldn’t imagine sticking my tongue down another guy’s throat. Wouldn’t you hit their Adam’s apple or somethin’?” He continued. Mike squinted his eyes, and Micky scrunched up his face. 

Peter turned to Mike. “Well I don’t think it’s disgusting. I’m just glad you found someone that makes you happy. That’s what love’s all about.” 

“Thanks Peter.” Mike smiles at him. 

“You don’t like me do you? Because I could understand, if you did.” Davy asked.

“No Davy.” Mike said, exasperated. 

“As long as you aren’t doing what Davy said in front of me. I guess it’s fine.” Micky shrugged.

“So should we be expecting you to be frequenting those gay bars and night clubs on Friday nights? I’ve heard they’re really a gas!” Peter said.

“Right _heard_.” Davy muttered, Peter was unable to catch what he said.

“Probably not.” Mike answered. 

“Yeah Pete, just because Mike’s gay doesn’t mean he’ll be anymore fun.” Micky said, with a chuckle which earned him a glare from Mike.

“Oh! Oh I have another question!” Davy said. 

“So have you shagged another guy yet?” Micky rushed to cover Mike’s mouth. 

“Don’t answer that.” Mike rolled his eyes, before taking Micky’s hand from his mouth. 

“That’s none of your business.” He replied. 

“I’ll know either way.” Davy said with a shrug. 

“Hey! How about we watch a little TV?” Micky suggested, trying to change the subject.

~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night Micky and Mike were in their respective beds. 

“Hey Mike.” Micky whispered and hoped the Texan could hear. “Did I really make you feel like you couldn’t talk to us?”He sat up from the covers. Mike copied his motion. 

“Well it wasn’t all your fault. It’s mine too. That’s just how this sort of thing is right?” _Well maybe._ Micky didn’t want to feel weird about Mike, but he just did. It just made his skin crawl to think about Mike with other guys. _That’s how I’m supposed to feel right?_ And then what Peter said returned to his thoughts. 

“Do you think being a Monkee and being gay are the same thing?” Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would you think that? They’re two different things. B-but I think you can be both.” 

“I dunno, Peter said something like that to me and I didn’t get it.” 

Mike chuckled shaking his head, “Peter’s like that. I also think he smokes too much too.” 

Micky smiled, “Yeah it was probably nothing.” 

Good night Mike.” He said to the Texan before snuggling back into bed. “G’night Micky.” Mike said to him before doing the same.

  
  


Micky felt a bit better, as though something heavy was lifted off of his chest. Mike was still Mike. And Micky guessed that deep down he was scared everything would change but actually everything was practically the same.

~~~~~~~~

_Epilogue_

Micky woke up to a bright blue beam illuminating their room. A green human-like male stood hunched over Mike. He was wearing shiny metallic clothes. “Hmm they were never supposed to meet.” The door opened to another creature, similar to the first but more feminine in body type. Micky closed his eyes, _gotta be a nightmare. “_ Did you erase the memories of the two downstairs?” 

“Yes I did.” The female one said. 

“Do you think we should just take them back?” The male one asked. 

“They’ve served their purpose, we were able to genetically engineer a more successful band!” The female said and both creatures started laughing. “Now hurry and wipe the mind of the curly haired one.” The female continued. 

Micky tensed at feeling both of their presences on both sides of his bed. _This is one far out dream._

And soon the blue light illuminated the room, and made Micky feel a tingle just beyond his skull as if they were tickling his brain. Micky then fell into the black abyss of sleep again.

~~~~~~~~~

Micky was the last to rise. He went down stairs to join Mike, Peter, and Davy in the kitchen. Micky poured himself some cereal. “What’s new Mike?”

“In the paper there’s an article about a mysteriously abandoned room in an apartment complex. Some musicians left their apartment completely furnished but no one knows where they went.” Mike said, folding the paper down.

“Hmm do you think we knew them?” Davy asked before spooning some cereal in his mouth.

“Nah, I can’t think of anyone who lives in that complex, it’s too high end.” Mike said, shaking his head.

“Hey guys I had the strangest dream about these aliens!” Micky spoke up then.

“Aliens!” Peter exclaimed in shock. 

Micky relayed his dream, with the slight feeling he’d forgotten something important before they all went back to worrying about their next gig to pay the rent.

It felt like nothing had changed, except for the whole Mike being gay thing. 

_How did that come about, again?_

_Some mixup with Helen?_

When he tried to remember his memories got fuzzy. Micky shook his head, it didn’t matter anyhow. Mike’s sexuality was just another thing they’d have to get used to, but they’d face whatever oncoming challenges together like they always did. 

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's the end, I hope it wrapped everything up well. I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
